Unspoken
by mihoyonagi
Summary: Actions speak louder than words, but without a voice, can the words inside you speak louder than those actions? A tale of unexpected friendship, struggle, love, and everything that goes with it. AerithSeph. Post Meteor, started before AC.
1. Death

Author's Note: This story revolves around the coupling of Sephiroth and Aerith, and is set no later than 2 years after the game of Final Fantasy VII. Please take note that the interpretations of the characters are entirely my own, as I have messed with them to better my story.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or anything associated with the game of Final Fantasy VII, or anything, for that matter, pertaining to Square. I can dream, however --;

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 1: Death

Cloud's gigantic sword came crashing down and metal met flesh in a dance of death. Sephiroth, as much as he tried to dodge the oncoming blow, fell victim to the business end of Ultima Weapon. Bloodied, battered, and thoroughly exhausted, he felt he could fight no more. The icy grip of a pitiful mortal death grasped his innards and threatened to tear his body apart, but the cells of Mother withered inside of him, urging him to fight on. His hands shook as he tried desperately to hold his monstrous katana up, but Masamune was beyond fighting- it too, was well beyond tired. The sword fell to the ground as Cloud punished the general with one last, final blow…

Blood flowed down his angular face and onto his chest, only to be soaked up by the dark color of his pants. He could feel a pulsing light from within, and before he even had time to blink, strands of light shone through his skin as if he had none. The light only grew, consuming him. He wanted to scream out, to damn the blonde puppet before him for what he had done, but the general lacked the strength.

Instead, he took a deep breath, and simply let the light take him, envelope him in its shine. He was dead- he could feel it. What was left to fight for?

But as the light took him, a searing pain rippled through his body, and for a mere second of consciousness, Sephiroth knew what real and absolute pain was. He couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't breathe; he was rendered incapable of common thought as pure and utter agony ripped through his veins, as if his limbs were to be torn from their sockets and every cell twisted until it could be twisted no more.

And yet, as fast as the pain had come, it was gone again, and a warm, wonderful sensation relaxed him once more. His heartbeat was erratic, despite the fact that the pain had faded and a sense of calmness had overtaken his mind. He searched his mind for the familiar being that was his mother, but it didn't respond- why should it? He was dead. He had failed.

An overpowering scent of flowers overcame his senses next, though the warm feeling remained. Though his eyes were open, Sephiroth could see nothing but white. It wasn't light from a source, rather, it was simply light. Funny, as he had always pictured death to be dark and dreary and full of lost souls and cold fire…

Something was moving toward him now, something so far away had he not trained ruthlessly for the greater part of his life his eyes would have missed it- a tiny colored speck in the far off distance of no space. He grew puzzled. What was it that was coming to meet him? Death, perhaps? An angel, only to smile upon his face with its beauty then damn him to the depths of hell, where he knew he would be sent?

The speck's color came into focus- pink. Sephiroth's heart skipped a beat, then pounded so hard he grew wary it would beat right out of his chest. It was her- the girl he had killed in the Ancient Capital, the very same girl he had run Masamune through as she knelt, praying for Holy. Had Holy come? Was the planet safe from meteor?

His heartbeat only grew as she came nearer. She was still clad in that funny pink dress of hers, hideous brown boots covering her tiny feet, small red jacket covering the pale flesh of her shoulders. Sephiroth tired to move, to turn, but he found he could not. He struggled, but the grip no-space had on him remained just as tight. His lungs began to burn and the smell of flowers only grew as she floated closer to him.

Strange- how peaceful she looked, drifting toward the man that had murdered her in cold blood and greed, with her eyes closed, light smile drifting across her face. Her figure stopped when she was only inches in front of the general, and he had long since stopped struggling.

She breathed. He could feel her warm breath escape her lips and drift across his face. She remained still for a few moments longer, Sephiroth fully aware of how close they were, and the two large, white, feathered wings protruding from her back. So she was made into an angel for giving her life for the planet she cared so much for…

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and piercing mako met rich emerald for the first time. Had he the ability, he would have gasped aloud, but breath had long left his empty lungs in a simple realization- her eyes matched his so beautifully. For so long he yearned to meet another with as strange eyes as he, and here she was, dead, yet still breathing in front of him.

Gently, she lifted her hands to his face and placed her open palms on his cheeks. "Sephiroth," he voice rang clear and beautifully, echoing in through the light.

He couldn't answer. It was his name she called, his name that cascaded down her rosy lips only to fall upon his face with her tender breath. But it was also he who killed her. She shouldn't touch him, and yet she smiled into his eyes as if they were old friends once, old lovers, perhaps.

"Sephiroth," her voice rang out again. This time, she tilted her head slightly, eyes still locked with his. "Do you wish to live?"

His eyes could only grow. What was she saying to him? Did she not realize the depth of his sins? He tried to destroy the planet, and yet here she was before him, hands upon his face, gazing into his eyes, asking him a question as if she had done so every hour of every day of her life.

He opened his mouth and answered. "I do not deserve it." The words were painful, and while they stung, he knew it was for the best- he could not go back. Were he to, he would be feared still, hated by all. He had tired to destroy the earth in blind green and selfish want.

"You don't answer me truthfully, Sephiroth. It is a simple yes or no question. Disregard all you have done- forget, and answer with your heart." Her thumbs traced gentle circles beneath his eyes.

"I-" he searched for the right words. It was wrong to want life back, but he didn't want to die. How could he forget what he had done? For the first time in his life, Sephiroth felt truly afraid. "Yes, I want to live…"

Aerith smile grew, and while it was kind, he couldn't mistake the sadness behind it for anything else. Carefully, she wound her arms around his neck and brought their bodies together, his head nestled safely in the crook of her neck.

"I will give you a chance, as will the planet…" Sephiroth could feel the vibrations from her throat as she spoke.

"But why?"

"You must learn to accept a gift when it is given."

"There is always a catch- nothing is free."

She sighed deeply. "For every right, there is a wrong. For every day, there is a night. For every good, there is an evil. In order for me to go back, I must take back with me, to the plane of the living, someone who holds as much evil as I good. Your soul was tainted by greed and lust for power, but you can change. I know you can…"

"How do you know I won't kill you again?"

"Certain strings are attached- if I die, so do you. If you die, so do I. Besides, I have removed all traces of Jenova from your system- you are no more than a man now, Sephiroth."

Oh, if she only knew how many years he yearned to hear those words. He wanted to be normal. He loved his power, no mistake, but to grow up and be shunned by the children his own age, and disregarded by his own father… How his heart burned.

He took all from her and yet here she was, willing to give him everything he wanted. His only reason for becoming a god had been to be better than those who pushed him away- they would have had to accept him, or die. But now… Now, nothing had to die. Perhaps his pride, but that died with the final blow of Cloud's sword…

"I am sorry it hurt so badly," she sighed, pulling him out of her embrace and looking, once more, into his eyes. "But it was the only way I could take her from your system. You must make a promise if we are to go back- you must promise to never kill another human."

It made sense. Finding that he could move, he found the strength in his body to nod. "And what have you given, as penitence?"

Again, she smiled deeply into his eyes. "I have given up the promised land, so long as you can come with me."

His sharp intake of breath stunned her- had she really thought him so heartless? "You can't- it's your birthright," he argued.

"I would not be happy knowing that someone would suffer in Hell because I was selfish."

Sephiroth knew not what to say. Did she care for him? He could only hope this was no ploy, that it was no sick joke some demon decided to play on his mind.

"I ask you again, Sephiroth. Do you wish to live?"

"Yes."

A scroll of parchment floated into his view from his left, and he watched in wonder as Aerith brought his hand to her mouth and took the tip of his pointer finger and placed it to her lips. Without warning, a small pain began to pulse at the end, only to realize that she had bitten his pale flesh. Blood beaded at the end of his finger.

"Sign your name," she requested. He did, and when he finished writing his name in his own blood, he looked down at the neat, yet erratic handwriting. He turned back to Aerith and she pressed her finger to his own lips.

"I cannot harm you again," he protested. Her gaze did not falter, and he finally did what she asked with her eyes. She signed her own name under his in a beautiful scroll that was completely her own. When her finger left the parchment, it dissipated.

She turned back to him. "You made a promise," she said sternly.

"I understand."

Green light surrounded them both as Aerith once more brought the silver-haired man into her warm embrace. Then, all went dark and quiet.


	2. Contemplation

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 2: Contemplation

'Why is my body so stiff? If I am indeed alive, why do my limbs ache so terribly? And where on earth is that dreadful cold coming from?'

Sephiroth opened his eyes into the bright morning sun, but because it was such, he immediately forced his eyes closed again as the intensity of the star that heated his face continued to burn down upon him. Slowly, he forced his stiff body to obey the commands his mind was sending it, and, with quite a struggle, the general managed to sit up. Again, he opened his eyes to view the world around him, but was a tad smarter this time and lifted his lids slowly.

'Well no wonder I am so damn cold,' he thought to himself, inspecting his surroundings. 'I am sitting in a stream.' Had he the energy, the general would have growled. His inward grumbling, however, was cut short when something caught his attention. Only an arm's length away and slightly further up on shore was the flower girl that had saved him from hell. Half of her body lay in the cold stream, but she slept soundly, just as he had. Given both of their positions, Sephiroth could only see her profile. Her face was emotionless, and her hair cascaded about her small frame like the water in which the general sat in.

Sephiroth's eyes shrank into narrow slits as he looked upon her. Something was far from right, and he could tell. Her chest rose and fell in even breaths, but what air she did intake was shallow, and her breathing wasn't normal.

Her voice rang out in his ears; "Certain strings are attached- if I die, so do you. If you die, so do I."

She had given her birthright to save him, though it was he who damned them both in the first place, and he'd be damned again before he let something happen to her. With all the might he had in his stiff, unruly body, the general stood, ankle deep in cold, spring water. What his eyes met with when he stood nearly knocked him back onto the ground; there was a deep, bleeding gash on her chest. Her pink dress had already soaked up so much blood that it could no longer hold anymore. Deep pools of liquid crimson gathered in the creases and folds of the fabric wherever it could.

Something dawned on the general as he peered down at the girl before him. Looking down his own body, he realized he was shirtless and covered in his own blood. There wasn't a second thought given to why his body throbbed; they may have been brought back to the world of the living, but their bodies were still their own, and as such, they were as tattered and as torn as when their souls escaped them.

There wasn't a moment to spare. Sephiroth, though his body throbbed on a most painful level, gathered the young beauty in his arms and began walking upstream. Even if he had no idea where it was he was walking, or if there would even be help, he continued placing one foot in front of the other, dragging his sore body through the current of the icy water.

Sephiroth couldn't have given less of a thought over the matter of how long he had walked. Once he heard the soft hustle and bustle of a town, however, he knew his labor had paid off. Stumbling past he main gate of the city, he tried to call out for help. It wasn't an easy task for the general- help wasn't something he was accustomed to asking for. But he knew he was too weak to walk much father, and he couldn't deny the fact that the bloody girl in his arm needed medical attention immediately.

When he opened his mouth, only a cry of pain came out. Several of those in the market turned and gasped. One woman shrieked for a doctor, and several men dropped what they were doing and rushed in the direction of what Sephiroth could only hope was a hospital. Not having the strength to take anymore, he slumped to the ground, though he refused to let the pink and red bundle of life in his arms go.

He felt several pairs of strong hands grab his shoulders. "You're going to be alright," came unknown voices in all directions.

Everything, once more, became dark as pain swallowed up Sephiroth's world.


	3. Reality

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 3: Reality

He wanted to open his eyes. He really, truly, did. He needed to see if she was all right. But the warm sun beat down on his body through the window and tried to push him back to sleep. Finally, forcing his heavy lids open, crystalline eyes met with the bright white interior of a sterile hospital room. He sat up and the world spun around him. Shutting his eyes tightly, Sephiroth waited for the room to return to stillness. His head felt huge, and the imagined weight of it only furthered the spinning room's effect. Clutching a handful of the sheet that covered his legs, the general fought a wave of dizziness. He bit his lip to keep from vomiting.

Once the spell had past, Sephiroth opened his eyes. The room was bright and held a strong odor of generic lemon cleaner. Aerith was nowhere to be seen. Throwing the sheets aside, the silver-haired man placed his legs over the side of the bed and looked down at himself. He had, apparently, been changed from his blood-covered black pants into a more appropriate white hospital gown that hardly passed his knees. Curse being tall. Upon inspecting his arm he found an IV buried deep within his flesh. Biting his lip he gripped the needle with his hands, he pulled it out. Sephiroth stood, though his legs felt as if they would fold like a deck of cards beneath him.

Stumbling to the doorway, he gripped the frame for better support, and then began his trek down the hall. A nurse spotted him and threw down the pile of fresh towels she carried. "Sir, get back into bed!" she ordered, pulling on his arm in an attempt to make him comply. He grunted and tore his arm free of her grasp, only to continue down the narrow hall. "Doctor!" he heard the nurse yell.

An elderly man popped his head out from a near-by door and was thoroughly shocked to see whom it was walking, slowly but surely, toward him. "I didn't think you'd be up for another few days, given the amount of blood you lost." The doctor smiled at his patient and stepped into full view in front of the staggering man. Sephiroth reached out his hands and grabbed the doctor's shoulders, searching his eyes for answers. Again, the doctor smiled. "She'll be fine."

Sephiroth let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't meant to be so obvious, but given the state of his body and face, he knew it was beyond his control. The doctor moved aside and made a simple gesture to the door in which he had just come out of. "You can go see her, if you like."

He didn't need the doctor to tell him that. Staggering into the sterile room, Sephiroth gasped at what he saw. Atop the hospital bed lay the petite flower girl whom he had saved. How ironic that he had done such, considering not long before he had taken her life… Based on the lump in her clothing in the region of her chest, he could only assume she had a massive amount of stitches attempting to hold her together. He couldn't imagine the pain she must have been in. And it was entirely his fault.

"What happened to the both of you?" the doctor asked, pulling a chair into the room for the silver-haired man to rest in.

Sephiroth took the kind gesture and sat down next to the bed Aerith laid in. The general looked down at her. His face was a cold and emotionless mask, but his heart beat faster at the mere sight of her. What was there to say? He couldn't explain himself. He had thrown away a lifetime of engraved behavior at the mere sight of her in distress upon the shore and ignored his own pain for her safety. How had he become so weak? When? He deeply sighed, completely at a loss of words and common thought.

The doctor's kind smile spread. "I understand; it must be hard for you. Maybe when she wakes up you'll be able to tell me, hmm?"

Slowly, Sephiroth nodded.

"But for now, young man, you need your rest."

Sephiroth shook his head violently. He would not be moved.

The doctor put a hand on his own forehead and shook his head. "Very committed, aren't you?"

The silver-haired man remained quiet, his intent gaze still upon the sleeping wingless angel before him.

"I'll send the nurse in with some blankets later, an I expect you to eat if you aren't going to keep that IV in you." The doctor left.

The corners of Sephiroth's lips curled up in a small smile. The doctor was a kind man, and that was something the general wasn't used to. For him, when the term 'doctor' came to mind, an image of a sterile lab popped into view, complete with mad men in white trench coats, where everything was white and no one was kind. The kindest thing that ever happened in the 'doctor's offices' that he could remember were the doctors actually warning him before they jammed a needle deep into his skin, pressing into his body some foreign, glowing substance.

Aerith stirred in her sleep, pulling Sephiroth from his memories and back into reality. He continued to stare down at her, as if he were waiting for her to do something. She, however, did nothing, save falling back into sleep's comforting spell.

Sephiroth continued to stare and Aerith continued to sleep. However long such antics went on for Sephiroth could not for sure say, however, when his eyelids became heavy and he removed his gaze from her, the only light in the room was creeping in from the hallway.

Voices could be heard from the hall, and Sephiroth listened intently, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular in the dark room.

"He seems very dedicated to that young woman in there," he heard the doctor's voice sound. Sephiroth didn't need to see the man's face to know that he smiled warmly over his said observation.

"I wonder what she is to him?" the nurse's voice inquired that of the doctor's.

"Important, at the very least."

Sephiroth hadn't noticed when his eyes had closed, for the he found the same comforting dark behind his eyelids as he had in the room. He didn't know quite when he decided to tune out the conversation in the hall, either, but not long after he leaned forward, placing the larger portion of his upper body on what bed space was open. He folded his arms and placed his head atop of them, letting out an exhausted sigh. Sephiroth couldn't recall when, exactly, he fell asleep, but he thought he felt the flower girl move before he plunged head first into dreamland.


	4. Speech

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 4: Speech

Soft voices tore the general from his peaceful slumber. Though he was awake, Sephiroth didn't open his eyes, or even stir in the slightest. He wanted to listen. What answers he hoped would remedy whatever unspoken question he wasn't sure, but the silver-haired man waited silently, patiently, for anything.

"He's been like this for three days?" It was the voice of the flower girl who had saved him.

"Indeed. He stumbled in hardly a few hours after we patched him up. Didn't say a word, just staggered on in here and sat down. He was pretty worried about you, you know. It was written everywhere on his face." The doctor's voice was as kind as it had been when Sephiroth last heard it.

"He was worried? Really?" She sounded completely astonished. Surely she didn't think him completely void of the capability to feel emotion.

The doctor's warm laughter filled the room. "He was worried, the nurses were worried, the townsfolk were worried; you all gave us quite a scare. What, pray tell, happened? Why were you two beaten up so badly?"

Silence.

However much he didn't want to, Sephiroth sat up, slowly. He opened his eyes to the germ-free shine of the familiar bright, white hospital room, and was met with the curious gaze of the only other two people in it.

Smiling, the doctor gave a nod of greeting. "How are you feeling?"

Sephiroth squinted his eyes and brought his right hand up to his head, attempting to stop the room from going into a nose-diving spin as it had when he last sat up. The place spun slowly, but he righted himself before a true dizzy spell could overcome his vision. His eyes made contact with the curious gaze that belonged to the flower girl whom he had killed, only to be saved, in turn, by her.

As their eyes met, the emotions in hers changed. First, they were filled with definite curiosity, looking him over in wonder and amazement. Then, they flashed to fear; she grabbed a handful of the white sheet that covered her, her tiny actions matching the fright in her eyes.

Even the doctor couldn't mistake the tight tension in the room for anything but what it was. He cleared his throat, uneasy, and nodded toward the two eye-locked patients. "I see you two have some things to sort out. I'll be out in the hallway if you need me." With that, he was gone.

Sephiroth watched as Aerith slowly swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. "How are you feeling?" Her voice cracked when she spoke, but her words had been clear.

Inhaling a large breath, Sephiroth thought about what she had asked him. In all of his life, not a single person had ever bothered to ask him that so sincerely. Despite what he had done in his previous life she still spoke to him, still looked him in the eyes, without hate- fear and curiosity, maybe, but not hate. There was simply no room in her great emerald eyes for hatred, only kindness and compassion, so it seemed. At a loss of words, Sephiroth merely nodded. How was one being capable of such selflessness? Despite the vast knowledge he harbored, such a person did not exist in the world he knew.

"The doctor says that you've been here by my side for three days now…" Was she trying to make small talk?

Sephiroth nodded again, this time more slowly than the last. He hadn't been awake for the duration of his time there, only to get close enough to see that she was okay.

He still remembered what she had said. "Certain strings are attached- if I die, so do you. If you die, so do I." Was it his want to save her that drove him to such lengths, or was it his own selfishness that did it? Sephiroth couldn't say. His eyelids were heavy, half shielding the world away from the crystalline orbs that hid beneath dark lashes.

A million questions flooded his mind. Why was she doing this? Was she really so trusting of others? Why was she so selfless? Why? Why? WHY? Balling his fist as tight as he could, Sephiroth pounded the wooden arm of the chair in frustration. He glared at her, at her innocence.

Aerith sat, completely still, before him, surprised by his actions. He watched her as she held her breath, eyes large and full of fright. She trusted him enough to bring him back to the plane of the living, yet she practically cowered in fear when he let his emotions get the better of him. How pathetic.

Standing, Sephiroth let the blanket fall from his shoulder and onto the floor. Without so much as word, he disappeared out the door. He searched the halls for the bathroom, ignoring the nurse who asked if he needed assistance. He didn't need help any human could give him…

Locking the door behind him, the general shed his clothing, not caring where it littered the floor. He stepped into the shower and pulled out the water nozzle, forcing the metal handle all the way to cold. Reveling in the feeling of pure feeling itself as the icy water chilled his skin, he tried to sort out the million thoughts that plagued his mind.

If he were to die, so would she. And the same went on the opposing side- if she were to die so would he.

His first priority- make sure she stayed safe. Having been given a second chance at life, Sephiroth was in no hurry to let it end. One life had been cut down by the business end of a large sword. His new life wouldn't soon be cut short because of the physical weaknesses of the burden that had been placed at the top of his mind.

To call her a burden would be a little too cruel, perhaps. She had done what no other mortal could have, even after he stole her life away with his gleaming katana. He had once thought that moment had been his greatest victory. Now he knew it to be his greatest regret. However, had he not slain her, he wouldn't have been standing in a cold shower, in a sterilized building, in only planet-knows where, and when for that matter.

Such thoughts brought his mind to another matter at hand- what year was it? How many days had passed since meteor's demise? Months? Years? Decades?

What if her friends were still alive? Oh, the mere thought of that blonde bastard sent chills down the general's spine. He truly hated him like he hated no other being, and that included the monstrous villain that had made the inside of his mind her home for countless years…

Everything was very confusing. While he knew there to be no trace of Jenova left in him, as the girl had explained before they had returned, he still felt bitter toward her, and more so to her comrades. On the other hand, the need to protect her had shaken him from restless sleep three days before, and it was that same need, desire, to stay by her side that caused him to do so, not only for the sake of his own life.

None of it made sense, but to the general, it didn't have to. He hated her and cherished her at the same time, and had never been in her presence long enough to develop such opinions.

He hated her innocence. Her purity shone through those shining emerald eyes of hers like the moon shines upon the water. She was selfless, so much so that she cared about the man who had stuck his sword through her so much, she brought him back, relinquishing her own given bright right to be happy after death so long as he could see the light of day again. He loathed her for taking away what he had devoted his life to, his sanity to.

But at the same time, he loved those innocent eyes and how they fearfully stared back at him as she gripped the sheet in fright when he let his frustration surface. She had feared him, but hatred was the last thing her eyes would ever glisten with. Her purity and selflessness- never in his entire life had he come across someone such as she. She was, quite honestly, perfection in a little pink, tattered dress.

What if things had been different? What if they had met before his sanity had left him? Before she befriended Cloud? Could they have had something, or would the world never forgive such a bond between a monster and flower? Would he have turned her heart as black as his had been, or would her light be enough to drive away the darkness?

Sephiroth watched as rust-colored watered flowed down the drain at the center of the shower. Slowly, the colored lightened until the water held no pigment but the normal color that was water, telling the frozen occupant of the cramped space that his body was free of the crust of blood, as was his silver mane.

Pushing in the nozzle, Sephiroth turned the water off and let the tiny droplets of clear liquid fall from his body. Resting his head against the side of the shower, he sighed, not knowing what to do. He pushed back the curtains and reached out for a clean towel, hung neatly on the rack by the nurses, he assumed. He pressed the towel to his face and let the soft linen soak up the water as well as his worries. Perhaps if he just spoke to her things would become a little less foggy.

He picked up the clothes that he had let fall to the floor earlier, only to find a new set of clothing folded upon the counter. It wasn't the classical open-back hospital gown he was so accustomed to seeing, but rather, a simple pair of black pants. Had Aerith requested fresh clothing be brought to him?

Toweling his hair dry, Sephiroth exited the small bathroom and made his way to the room he knew the flower girl to occupy. When he entered, he stopped dead at what he saw. She sat amidst the tangled white sheets, hair completely unbraided, spread across the colorless linen that lined the bed. Brush in hand, she ran it gently through her honey locks, smoothing them out, only for them to spring back into gentle curls caused by her braid in the first place. Her emerald eyes fell on the window and the view on the other side; the ocean filled out the entire horizon beyond the glass, just past a small forest. A soft, indistinct melody fell from her lips, an angelic creation all her own. The sunlight from outside illuminated her face, making her look more like a holy being than she already did.

Sephiroth let his breath out, his lungs pushing out air that he hadn't known he was holding. The sharp noise caused the melody to come to an end as the woman in the bed turned to look at the man in the doorway. Innocently, she tilted her head, her facial expression remaining impassive. "Feeling any better?" she kept her voice cool, he noticed, not wanting to give her emotions away. Her eyes, however, betrayed her; he would see the wonder and worry in them.

He merely nodded, curtly.

"I talked to the doctor while you were away. It's only been a few years since Meteor was destroyed."

Sephiroth's heart sunk to his feet. The way she had said it caused his level of frustration to rise up again. Her passive tone made it seem like she hadn't the slightest idea she had done it all on her own. Yes, Cloud had managed to kill him, but it was Aerith alone that had stopped Meteor from crashing down upon the earth. And having only been dead for a few years meant that Cloud was most likely still alive.

"We talked a bit more, and he offered us a cabin he has in the woods, up north. He didn't ask about what happened to us, either. He seems to understand enough."

A cabin? Sephiroth tilted his head, trying to piece together what she was saying.

"You don't have to stay with me if you don't want," she smiled up at him. He could tell it was fake. Her eyes glazed over with sorrow and hurt at her own words.

Did she really believe it to be so simple? Come back, get patched up, the just, well, live? It made no sense. What about her friends? Wasn't she going to try and track them down? And what of this 'cabin' business? Did she really mean just to continue living as if nothing else had happened? Her voice had informed him that he didn't even have to stay in her company, if that was indeed what he wanted- to finally be rid of her. But her eyes had given her away; she wanted company.

Sephiroth opened his mouth to demand answers from her, but nothing came out. Not a single sound came from his gaping mouth. He shut his mouth and swallowed, thinking perhaps it was just a dry throat, but when he opened his mouth again to question her, still not a sound was heard.

Aerith's eyes widened as she gazed upon him.

Throwing his hands around his throat, Sephiroth clutched his neck in desperation; he had no voice!

Panicking, he threw himself against the wall, disrupting a tray of medical supplies that had stood behind him. Metal objects and tin trays littered the floor, and a few glass bottles shattered open. He groped the wall behind him for something, anything, to hold on to, but the partition was completely smooth, offering no help to the distraught man.

Several nurses came running into the room, eyes wide and full of worry. "What's going on here?" one of them demanded.

Sephiroth looked to them and opened his mouth, wanting to scream at them to let him be. But the room was met with silence.

"Get the doctor!" one of the nurses screamed as Sephiroth fell to his knees in a panicked stupor.

Sephiroth knew himself to look like a wild man- a shirtless, pale-skinned beast, mouth agape, teeth barred, with a look of confusion and hate strewn across his face.

Aerith had torn the covers off her bed and ran to his side, throwing the blanket over his shoulders. "Calm down, Sephiroth, please!" she begged, falling onto her knees beside him.

He couldn't hear her, and instead tore at the blanket, wanting to rid himself of it. Aerith, however, held it in place with an iron grip he never knew such a small creature to have. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her, unable to ask her why he couldn't speak. He saw, however, the tears that brimmed her eyes, and stopped immediately. What was this feeling in his chest that caused him to cease his thrashing?

Sadness?

Fear?

Guilt?

"Everything will be okay, I promise," she assured him, letting the tears fall freely down her face and onto the tile floor.

Was she truly feeling his pain?

Sephiroth searched her eyes for something, anything, that would keep him from thrashing out again. And he found it.

She cared for him, despite everything. She was truly selfless.

His limbs fell beneath his weight and he collapsed against her, tightening his grip on her shoulders for support, resting his head against her.

"It will be okay." How low she whispered into his ear. Though his heart was pumping like mad, he felt calm. It was like before, when they were dead and she had wound her arms around her neck; the same calmness washed over him.

His eyes became heavy as the strong fragrance of flowers engulfed him.


	5. Hope

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 5: Hope

A gentle touch slowly coaxed the general from his sleep. Tender fingers caressed his cheek and placed stray strands of silver hair where they belonged. Aquamarine eyes opened, only to be met with a kind gaze of piercing emerald.

Sephiroth's heart skipped a beat as memories from before his world went black forced themselves into his mind.

He couldn't talk.

Aerith's kind gaze didn't falter as she looked down at him. He realized, after shifting only slightly, that his head was in her lap, and that he was once again in a hospital bed. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable position he had ever been in, but her soft fingers continued to stoke his face, and he let his eyes fall closed once again, not knowing what else to do.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. The white haired man knew it to be the doctor, but he kept his eyes closed all the same.

"Post traumatic stress disorder," the doctor announced, walking into the room.

Sephiroth felt the pair of legs his head rested in shift and he knew Aerith had turned her eyes to the doctor. The man continued on. "It's quite common, you see; someone who has been in a bad situation can't let go of what happened, and so it makes them sick, at least in his case. I've heard of people's hair turning completely white, other cases where people go blind. This is the first mute case I have actually seen, though. It usually happens with cases of war. Soldiers kill, and watch people be killed; that's very traumatic."

Would she tell the doctor that he had slain her without so much as a second thought? Her death had been traumatic in the eyes of her friends, but it was almost as if she hadn't noticed.

"How long will it last?" Was she always so concerned for others? "His voice will eventually come back, won't it?"

Sephiroth didn't need to see the doctor shake his head to know he did so. "This is all psychological, so I can't say; it could be a week, it could be a decade. It all comes down to whether or not he is willing to just move on. I told you I wouldn't ask what happened to you two, but it seems to me that it must have been something beyond terrible if it affected him this much."

Aerith continued to stroke Sephiroth's hair. She, however, said nothing.

The doctor continued. "As I told you, the cabin up in the woods is all ready for you, so you don't have to worry about a place to stay while you are here."

Sephiroth could hear Aerith shake her head. "I would feel terrible just staying there, burdening you like this. Is there some way I can pay you back for all of your kindness?"

Sighing, the doctor paused. "I told you; I insist you use it until you feel the need to leave this place. I haven't stayed up there in years, so don't worry."

"But-"

"I insist."

"Sir, please-"

"I'll tell you what. Once your friend is feeling better, the both of you can come down here to the hospital every now and then and we'll send you on some errands around the town."

"Are you sure? That doesn't seem like much."

Still, the doctor persisted. "It would be a big help if you came on the weekends. That way, I can have errands run, and all of the nurses here can stay at their posts so I am not short handed. I can even pay you for it."

"Sir!"

The doctor merely laughed. "Consider the cabin as a bit of a 'get well' present. My wife and I never use it since we bought our house down on the beach, and I would never be able to sleep at night knowing that I patched you two up just so you could go sleep on the streets."

Aerith was silent for a long moment, and Sephiroth knew she was debating over whether or not to take the doctor up on his more than generous offer. "I think, sir, that we might just have a deal." She laughed a little, and the man in her lap shifted slightly to become more comfortable.

Once more, the doctor let out a soft laugh. "Please, call me Rej."

"Thank you, Mr. Rej." Sephiroth knew that Aerith smiled. She would; so constantly innocent and kind. Had he bothered to keep his eyes open, he would have rolled them.

"Just Rej. We'll, if there's nothing else I can do for the both of you, you are free to leave when you please. Be sure to stop by the main office and check out."

Sephiroth waited for the doctor's footsteps to fade down the hall. Only then did he open his eyes. Once again, he was met with Aerith's shining emerald orbs.

She merely smiled down at him, kindly.

Slowly, he sat up. There was an awkward silence in the air he wished he could have broken, but without a voice, what good was he? Sephiroth watched as Aerith slowly turned her head down, her gaze falling into her lap. "I take it you heard the doctor."

Sephiroth nodded his head, knowing his voice had long since betrayed him.

"You don't have to stay with me, if you don't want," she hesitated. Drawing in a large breath, she let it out in a heavy sigh. "But I'd like the company."

What else was there for him to do? He had no family, no loved ones wishing he hadn't died. Home was something he wasn't familiar with, and the concept of it confused him. Was home simply a house to be lived in? What about that old saying he had seen countless times stitched into scraps of fabric, framed, and mounted upon a wall? 'Home is where the heart is.'

He didn't have a heart, did he?

Sephiroth continued to stare at the small woman before him, unsure of how to react. Did she really mean what she said? Sephiroth assumed, because of what looked to be innocence written upon her face, that she indeed meant she would enjoy his company.

But that didn't make any sense. He had killed her, and yet still she looked upon him with such kind eyes?

Had he a voice, the general would have grumbled something about the 'damn human emotions' that seemed to be running rampant in his mind.

It was true; he didn't have any other place to go. Nobody was waiting for his return, or at least hoping his death had simply been rumors. There was no place for him to call home because he had never known such a place. His heart had been made completely of stone before, and yet he sat before the flower girl, the girl he had killed, pondering if he should stay with her or not, if he could ever share his heart with her.

There really was no down side to it. He would get to live in a secluded forest cabin, and all the while making sure Aerith stayed safe, so he could remain safe as well. He had never stayed in one place more than a few weeks, so perhaps living in a house, and all the while maintaining it, could prove to be a challenge all in itself.

Well, it was worth a try, wasn't it? What was he going to lose? His honor was gone, destroyed with the last swing of an oversized sword, and what little pride he had left had long since flown out the window when he realized his voice was nowhere to be found. What, really, was there left to do?

Sephiroth wanted to open his mouth to answer, to tell her that living with her would be, at the very least, bearable. But reality slapped him across the face, and not even the slightest of sounds came out of his mouth when he tried to reply. He closed his mouth and merely nodded.

Perhaps the most difficult thing would not be living with her. Perhaps it would be trying to communicate with her when he felt he couldn't communicate, connect, with anyone. He felt so alienated.

He watched her as she moved her gaze from her lap and looked into his eyes. Her deep emerald irises shone with a radiant brilliance, slightly wet around the edges.

Had she been crying? Or was she about to? Why? Was she scared that he would just up and leave her? As much as he didn't enjoy admitting it, he owed her his life, as she was the one who had given back it to him. She was the sole reason he was still alive.

"You mean you'll stay with me?"

Sephiroth nodded once more.

A true smile befell her lips and her eyes twinkled with a light that Sephiroth could not identify. A strange feeling began to flutter inside of his stomach as Sephiroth watched the way Aerith smiled at him. She wiped the tears away from her face with the back of her wrists, and sniffled quietly.

"If you feel better, we can leave." For some reason, he knew she didn't want to stay in the hospital any more than he did. Though the staff was nice, and the place was just as sterile as the next hospital, there was a certain uneasiness about it all that made his skin want to crawl. Bad memories haunted him, and Sephiroth wanted nothing more to do with men in white coats and needles. He stood and took a few steps back, allowing Aerith to stand as well. She stood, then passed him, still smiling, and led the way to the front office.

"We're checking out," she informed the receptionist, placing both hands palm down on the countertop.

The receptionist smiled when she looked up at the strange pair. "Feeling better, I take it?"

Aerith nodded eagerly as she took the clipboard that was handed to her.

"Just sign on the bottom line."

Aerith did so, scribbling her name. She then turned to the man behind her, still smiling, and handed him the clipboard and the pen.

Sephiroth stared down at what he held in his hand, startled. He looked to where Aerith had signed her name. Her handwriting was exactly as he remembered it, written in blood upon the strange piece of parchment that had appeared out of nowhere in the no space they had floated in. A simple yet completely unique signature, all her own, there on the parchment, just as he recalled, sat once more in front of him.

Only this was a release paper, not a promise.

Nothing could be taken for granted; he knew that now. Something as simple as signing one's name was serious business to someone who had been given a second chance at living. It was like that old saying he had heard countless times- 'stop and smell the roses.'

Sephiroth realized something that went hand in hand with what ideas had only just crashed down upon him. Yes, it was important to stop and smell the roses. But there were too many roses for one person to take note of them all. Another saying popped into the mind of the silver-haired man- 'don't sweat the small stuff.'

He signed his name below Aerith's.


	6. Home

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 6: Home

The receptionist behind the counter smiled as Sephiroth handed her the clipboard, attached paper bearing his name, as well as Aerith's. She didn't bother looking down at it, but instead kept smiling as she placed it on her desk.

"Are we free to go, then?" Aerith asked politely.

The receptionist shook her head. "A bunch of the townsfolk stopped by and brought care packages for the both of you. You really had this place in a tizzy, I can tell you that. They were all so worried."

Sephiroth found her voice annoying. 'Get to the point,' his mind screamed, knowing his vocal cords could not.

Bending over and retrieving an assortment of things from off the floor behind her desk, the receptionist produced several large baskets of various objects. Sephiroth's mouth fell agape as he was caught up in such a compassionate gesture from complete strangers; inside the baskets were clothes and blankets, food, both canned and fresh, and paper packages of seeds dotted each basket, all from caring townsfolk who had no idea who they were. Had they the slightest idea the sins Sephiroth had committed…

He suppressed a shudder regarding the last thought, and instead looked to Aerith for instruction. Having been the general of the Shinra army, Sephiroth was more prone to give orders rather than receive them, but considering Aerith now held the key to his future, as well as the cabin he would regain his composure in, he made an exception.

Aerith thanked the nurse and grabbed one of the baskets. Following her lead, Sephiroth retrieved the other two from the desk, not bothering to even acknowledge the nurse, however, and followed Aerith out the door.

The city below them looked messy, and, at the very most, one might call it grungy, but from the look in Aerith's eyes, Sephiroth assumed she had already fallen in love with it. It did have, after all, open skies and clean air, cleaner than he knew the air in the slums to be. She stood on the doorstep, directly in front of him, heaved a heavy sigh, and then began down the cobblestone walk.

Sephiroth noted that, for a hospital, it was surprisingly secluded. While the city was still in clear view, it was quite a walk into town. He had expected, however, to continue down the path and into town, but Aerith turned and began walking on a small brick path that branched off. Had she continued going straight, she would have ended up in town.

It was a shorter walk than Sephiroth had expected, really. Though they had traveled far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the city that it no longer could be heard, they had walked no longer than a few minutes, and through the trees he could already see he and the flower girl were coming upon the cabin she had spoke of earlier. Perhaps it was a good thing that the cabin lay close to the hospital, really. If either he or Aerith were to have a relapse, or if one of them were to become hurt, help was near by. Though he knew himself to be strong, Sephiroth knew that, given his shape at the standings, perhaps help might be needed in the future. His body had been well toned and trained in his previous life, but planet only knew what was wrong with it at the current moment. He had, after all, been asleep for many days. Despite that, Sephiroth also understood Aerith's physical weaknesses. She was a healer and a magic user, not good for much else in the world of combat.

Healers, however, also served a purpose. Though he didn't want to admit it out loud, Sephiroth understood such things now. She had not been strong, so he had done the easiest thing and simply killed her. But healer's spirit's can be just as tough, if not more so, than the spirit of a warrior. And sometimes, the spirit can be far stronger than the spirit of the warrior, as Sephiroth had learned the hard way.

Lost with the scenery that grew around the small cabin, Sephiroth nearly bumped into Aerith when she stopped to dig the door's key from her pocket. Placing the small piece of shaped metal into the keyhole, Aerith turned the lock and opened the door, revealing to Sephiroth something he had never known.

Home.

This was what a house looked like. Yes, this particular house was messy, and a little dusty, but it was well lived in, and taken care of.

Even if he had the ability, he wouldn't have spoken; what was there to say? 'I'm home?'

The interior of the cabin was rather large, in comparison to the outside appearance. Directly to the left of the front doorway was a small door, which Sephiroth assumed to be a closet. Further off to the left was a large parlor, and opposing the parlor to the right, across a small walk, was the kitchen. In between the two was a staircase leading up. In front of the kitchen, right of the front door, was a small dining table set in front of a large bay window, over looking the garden outside.

It was quaint, to say the least, but seemed a little overzealous for only two people. Still, to a man who had never known what it was to have a home, it was a start. Aerith placed her basket upon the island in the kitchen. She stretched her arms out over her head and took in a deep breath. Turning back to Sephiroth, whom still stood in the doorway, she tilted her head and smiled. Though he was no expert on emotions, he knew she was happy, pleased with what they had acquired.

But that wasn't the whole of it. Aerith let her hands fall outward, so they formed a straight line across her. Her smile only grew. "Welcome home!"

Sephiroth blinked, startled. Nobody had ever welcomed him anywhere and meant it as she did. There was something about her smiling face that let Sephiroth know that he was, indeed, home, even if he had never known such a thing. Slowly, he nodded his head and stepped inside.

He was home.


	7. Thought

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 7: Thought

Every day became routine, but Sephiroth greatly enjoyed every moment of it, though he would dare never admit to such a thing. When the sun rose in the morning, Sephiroth woke and, carefully and quietly, made his way down the stairs and out the front door. There was a large space behind the house clear of trees and shrubbery where he would practice his many sword katas, honing and training his body back to the way it had been before, well, before it had washed up upon a shore in worse shape than if he had been dropped out of an airship with no parachute. His muscles were still stiff, but trivial things didn't bother him, and he swung his great katana with the precision of the master he was, despite how his muscles complained.

But it was only for practice. Though his sword and all that went along with it reminded Sephiroth of the many great sins he had committed, Masamune was something that could not simply be tossed out. It was Sephiroth's only material possession. The sword was a part of him, just as he was part of the sword, and one simply can't throw parts of oneself away based on bad memories.

Yes, he had committed many crimes. It was the sword in which cut life, though it was Sephiroth whom willed it to do so. The general had been given a second chance; why not the weapon that killed just as many as he did?

He felt, however, fairly awkward in the clothing that had been provided for him. Training in anything but his usual leather armor seemed very strange, but seeing as his customary attire was something that had been most likely been thrown out by the hospital staff, there wasn't much that could be done about his discomfort. It was nice, conversely, to be able to breath, and to move more easily in his new clothes. They were, of course, black, as Sephiroth felt that was the only color that suited him.

After his morning training, he would quietly sneak back inside, up the stairs, and into the bathroom that stood at the top of the stairs. The bathroom itself was large, what with two sinks, a large, clawed bathtub, and a separate room where the toilet stood, the two walls facing the outside nearly completely covered by fogged glass windows, and Sephiroth found it rather relaxing. He would start the water in the tub, strip, and cleanse away anything that didn't belong by means of the fragrant, homemade soap with flower petals inlaid inside the beeswax.

The filling of the tub always served as a wake-up call for Aerith, and as soon as Sephiroth turned off the water, he heard her door open, thusly followed by the soft sounds of her bare feet making their way down the steps. He would then finish bathing, and when he opened the door to his room there was always a new change of clean clothes for him laid out on his bed.

Sephiroth had to admit, internally, if nothing else, that while her constant cleaning and chores bored him, they also fascinated him. She had nothing written in stone, demanding that she do certain things, but she did them regardless, without complaint, and more often than not accompanied by a soft hummed song.

Donning his clean clothes, which were always black, much to his own delight, Sephiroth would then continue downstairs where Aerith would finish cooking their breakfast. While she finished, Sephiroth took it upon himself to make himself look useful, and thus began his daily chore of setting the table for both of them. Though he knew he did it completely wrong, he honestly gave it a try; homemaking wasn't his specialty, and he had never been taught what he believed to be frivolous things. He had been a soldier, not a housewife.

But, much to his own satisfaction, Aerith would always smile at what he had tried to do and thank him. He was pleased that she said nothing of it, and he felt relieved that he couldn't ask for help; not that Sephiroth would actually ask, of course. They would usually eat in silence, which the general preferred, considering Aerith's natural chatty behavior throughout the day, but every so often she would comment about the weather, or the animals, or some other small topic. Sephiroth would nod, and she would smile, as she always did.

After breakfast, Sephiroth took it upon himself to clean the dishes, since he knew not what else to do with himself while Aerith went outside and did the wash in the basin near the side of the house. He would much rather do the dishes than the laundry, but washing plate after fork after glass became far too mundane for him, and he began to ponder why on earth Aerith did such things every day. Her will, at times, mesmerized him; she always looked so happy while sweeping or folding or doing any other chore she set after. Was that what really made women happy?

Sephiroth would shake his head to himself after such silly thoughts; she didn't like doing chores any more than he did, he was sure, but she seemed happy to have his company, in or out of the house.

Once the laundry and dishes were set aside, the rest of the day was rather boring, as far as the standards went. Aerith would go on long walks through the woods behind the house, and Sephiroth, deciding that it was better than staying inside and doing nothing, would accompany her. It was those times during the day she would talk to him. She never spoke much of herself he noted, but she seemed very knowledgeable when the topic swayed to plants or flowers. Aerith could easily tell a poisonous plant from a harmless one, and she often plucked berries off bushes and plopped them into her mouth, then would turn and inform her walking companion that the ones in the next bush over were more ripe than the ones she had just ate, if he cared for some.

It was all mind boggling to Sephiroth, really. Nearly every day he would walk through the woods with the young woman whose life he had stolen in cold greed, yet she smiled at him, and talked to him. Women had always been a mystery to the great general, but Aerith blew his mind right out of the solar system and into the endless abyss known as outer space.

Lunch consisted of whatever he was craving for, and he found out quickly that, while she cooked him breakfast every morning, she was no more his maid than his mother, and certain things were left unto him to do. Not that he minded, of course. Having her company was relaxing, to say the least, but he couldn't depend on her for everything. He didn't want to, either.

Dinner was, however, much like breakfast. She would cook for him, they would eat, and he would clean the dishware while she showered upstairs.

There were many good things to the cabin. For one, hot water was not a luxury, and for that, Sephiroth was thankful. No one liked to bathe in the cold. Just as well, electric lights were used to keep the house illuminated during the darker times of the night. There was no generator; instead, a large wooden wheel would turn, powered by the small stream that ran by the house and further into the forest. Because of the stream, clean water was always available.

The inside of the cabin was not overly decorated, either. Simple solid colored couches and chairs adorned the parlor, and hand-made oak tables and chairs were what they ate on in the living room. Few pictures lined the walls, and what did were merely landscape portraits. Plates and what not were neatly lined in cupboards in the kitchen, and what food they had received from the villagers was enough to stock the remaining cabinets full. Clean linen could always be found in the upstairs bathroom. Thankfully, two bedrooms were located upstairs; Sephiroth's being the one closest to the stairs, while Aerith's was the one furthest down the hall.

He had not yet seen the interior of the room she had chosen, but considering he respected her privacy as much as she respected his, he steered clear of it. While she delivered a clean change of clothes to him every morning, he had nothing else in his room, save for the old dresser in the corner, a mirror, and of course his bed. Sephiroth understood that Aerith greatly enjoyed his company, which was quite puzzling all on its own, and she wanted him to stay.

There was one thing in the cabin that Sephiroth liked, very much. In the corner of the parlor stood a tall, elegantly carved bookshelf. In his youth, Sephiroth hadn't been much of the reading type. He had been more interested in honing his skills. While he had attended school, just like any other child, he would only read books that had to do with combat, sharpening one's skills, weaponry, or other books of said types. This bookcase had anything but such books, and Sephiroth was glad; after reading one of the many bound works upon the shelves he developed a thirst for them, not caring what they were about, so long as they were richly detailed and had an even plot.

There was, however, something that made him weary while in the house. He and Aerith would turn in at the same time at night. When one of them began to turn off lights and lock the windows, the other would follow their lead until they were sure everything was safe and secure. Sephiroth knew that he could frighten off nearly anything that came knocking on the old, oak door, but he did what Aerith did to make her feel better. He realized that she knew she was safe, so long as she was in his company, but, regardless, Sephiroth locked the windows for her sake, if only to make her feel better. Once she reached her bedroom door, Aerith would place a hand on the doorknob, and then turn to the man whom she lived with. Her face would fall and become completely unreadable, but her eyes would speak with the intensity of the sun. Sephiroth was no expert regarding emotions, and instead found her stare rather frightening, and would become completely still as her eyes would seemingly seep into his soul. Then, without warning, she would speak.

"I forgive you, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth didn't think Aerith knew quite how much her simple words shook him, but regardless, she would say them every night before bed, then turn her head away and enter her bedroom, as if she hadn't spoken at all. And every night Sephiroth would lie awake in his bed and ponder what it was she had meant.

Forgiveness wasn't something he was familiar with, and because of such, Sephiroth hadn't the slightest idea how to react to what she said. Her words kept him awake long through the night, and weaved their way into his thoughts until they slowly lulled him to sleep. His dreams, however, were peaceful enough, yet when the sun woke him in the morning as it playfully waltzed across his bedcovers, Aerith's words still rang out in his ears.

Perhaps an answer would come with time? Though her words made him uncomfortable, he listened to her every night. The meaning of her statement eluded him, but for some reason he wanted to hear it. As they would walk up the stairs together, tired from a day of cleaning and cooking and walking through the woods, his heart would beat faster and faster until Sephiroth felt it would beat right out of his chest. He waited for her words, and he didn't have the slightest idea as to why; it as almost as if he needed to hear them. Words had always meant very little in the mind of the general, but he had yet to hear enough from Aerith.

At times, he wished he could respond to her. At others, he was glad his voice was gone, just so he was able to hear her speak her puzzling words to him before bed.

It was confusing, really.

But, that was life, and Sephiroth knew there was little he could do about it. Constant routine made up his day, and though he enjoyed the stability of it all, the world still beckoned him. Every day, while he and Aerith would walk through the woods behind the cabin, he noticed that she walked just a little farther than the day before. It was as if she was testing him, really. Did she believe he would simply leave, given proper opportunity?

He didn't want to. Sephiroth was enjoying what he had been given, and he wasn't soon going to let it go. Besides, staying in the company of the flower girl was pleasant, even if a little strange; a sinner and an angel under the same roof, living in harmony. It sounded more like a fanciful old wives' tale than reality, for sure.

Time never stands still, and people change, for better, or for worse. There was no mistaking the happiness that shone in the eyes of the chestnut-hair woman whom with he stayed.

Sephiroth had finally found a place he didn't mind calling home; a place where there was always a pleasant fragrance wafting about, whether the smell of the forest, or of the occasional rain shower; a place where there was always warmth radiating from, inside or out; a place to rest weary feet and sore muscles; a place he could easily fall asleep in, safe from the world around him, and just as well wake up the next morning.

For the first time in his life, Sephiroth was content.


	8. Curiosity

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 8: Curiosity

Sephiroth, elbow deep in dirty dishwater, scrubbed relentlessly the leftover hardened frosting of the piece of cake he had only just enjoyed from the fine china plate. It wasn't the best thing he had ever consumed, but considering he had never before tasted cake, he couldn't deny his new hunger for it. He officially understood why the bakery in town was always so populated; anything fresh tasted wonderful.

Care of the baker, Aerith had learned how to make fresh bread and cake only the day before. The elderly man had taken a liking to her, and was pleased when they walked into the store the previous day; he had been one of the people to help both the general and the flower girl to the hospital and was, therefore, very worried. While browsing through the store, she had stopped and peered over the counter as the baker started a new loaf, and was thoroughly transfixed. When the elderly man asked her if she could make anything, she laughed nervously and responded with, "only simple meals." The baker had smiled kindly at her, and then disappeared into the back. When he returned, he rewarded Aerith's honesty with a small stack of recipe cards. Not wanting to impose, Aerith at first turned the generous offer down. But, the baker persisted, and Sephiroth noted that the girl simply couldn't say no to kindness, no matter how she tried.

She was wonderful at handing kindness out by the truckload, but taking it was another story, or so Sephiroth had noted since in her company. It was - really- rather amusing.

Sephiroth pulled the plug inside the kitchen sink and let the water swirl down into the dark depths of the drain. He pulled the bright yellow rubber gloves from his hands and placed them under the sink, next to the dish soap and various other cleaning supplies. Sighing, the general pulled a dishtowel from the nearby drawer and began drying his and Aerith's plates. Placing them back in the cupboard, Sephiroth leaned against the countertop and crossed his arms.

Chores bored him, but doing something was better than nothing. Making his way toward the bookshelf, Sephiroth eye's followed the rows, right to left, the left to right, in search of a book. He didn't know what it was he was looking for, but he looked, regardless. A small glint caught his eye. Sephiroth turned his head to one side to better read the binding. The book's title was too worn to read, but what was left of the letters that had once formed words sparkled.

Pulling the book from the shelf, Sephiroth blew away the thin later of dust that had compiled atop its closed pages. The cover was worn, and he could no more read it than he could read what was on its binding. It was old, no doubt, but it was well held together, despite the passage of time and obvious abuse.

Tentatively, Sephiroth traced the outline of what words had once rested on the cover with his finger. The book wasn't bound in paper, but instead monster skin; thus the reason it had remained intact.

An old book with a worn title, bound in thick, resistant monster skin.

He was officially curious.

His curiosity, however, was momentarily averted to the scream that was admitted from outside. Not bothering to place the book back on the shelf, Sephiroth ran to the front door, grabbing Masamune from its resting place next to the door.

What was outside, however, was far from what he had expected. Aerith sat upon her knees in front of him, her back facing the general, arms crossed in a huff. Sephiroth's eyes fell to what he assumed to be her problem; a large, dead bramble bush in the middle of the side of the yard stood tall and unyielding to the small flower girl. She let out an exasperated sigh, and then fell on all fours, placing her hands on the stem of the bush. She leaned back and pulled with all her might, but the bush remained just as unyielding as ever.

Suddenly, her grip came loose and she fell, right out of her gardening gloves, and onto her back. Her eyes made contact with the tall man that stood above her. Sephiroth tilted his head ever so slightly. Aerith's face grew red as she scrambled to stand up. Still, Sephiroth watched her as she brushed off the excess dirt from her body.

She didn't bother to try to cover up anything with a false story; she came outright and told Sephiroth what she had been doing, despite his lack of question.

"I want to make a flower garden here, since you use the space in the back for your training."

Sephiroth tilted his head as he moved to inspect the bramble bush.

"But I can't have a garden surrounding something dead, and full of thorns. I can't pull it out, either; it's too big."

Kneeling to further examine the intruding bush, Sephiroth placed a hand to his chin in thought. Standing, he held out the book in his hand for Aerith to take. She peered up at him with a questioning gaze, but he waved the book in front of her and she took it at long last. Further moving his hand in front of her, he lightly pushed her backwards a few paces.

Still, she stared at him with bewilderment, book safely in hand. Sephiroth moved in front of the bush and exhaled softly. Slowly drawing breath, he pulled his sword from its scabbard. He heard Aerith gasp behind him as Masamune glistened in the early afternoon sunlight, completely bare. With a motion of his body that made it look as if he was made from some viscous liquid, Sephiroth cut the stem of the thorny plant. For a few seconds, everything was still; not even the birds in the trees twittered as they usually did. Then, a creaking grown was admitted from the plant as it fell to the ground.

Again, Aerith gasped. Sephiroth sheathed his sword and turned to her, outstretching his hand so as to take the book from her.

For a moment, she simply gazed deeply into his eyes. Then, she handed him his book and bowed her head. "Thank you very much." What, really, was there left to say?

He nodded, though he knew her head to be down too far for her to see such an action. Taking back his book, he slowly walked back into the house. Sephiroth, not knowing what else to do, made his way upstairs and to his room. He closed the door behind him, tossing the book to the bed. Peering out the window, Sephiroth watched as Aerith, gardening gloves adorning her tiny hands, pulled the thorny bush to the edge of the woods and out of her way. Then, spade in hand, she began to dig a border for her garden. The general leaned against the window frame, intently watching the small woman outside.

How strange it was to him that another being could put so much effort into something so meaningless. What good were flowers? Flowers could not be eaten, flowers did not provide shelter from the sun; they were completely without significance, unless she planned to use them for decoration.

But what was the point of that? There was a florist in town, just two shops down from the bakery. Just as well, visitors never came anywhere near their cabin.

Was it, perhaps, just something for her to do? Sephiroth contemplated such a notion. It did, after all, make sense. What else was there to do?

Sephiroth's brow furrowed. Perhaps she wanted to stay permanently in the house. He further contemplated such a notion, but found it rather difficult to comprehend. The past few weeks had been the longest he had ever stayed in one place. It was fine, for the time being, but staying in the cabin for the rest of his days did not seem very appealing.

Aerith stood below him and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She had already arranged piles of dirt into organized rows and had removed all off the unwanted weeds. Sephiroth continued to watch her as she pulled of her gloves and placed them on the stump upon which the bush had once stood.

"Sephiroth, I'm going into town for a bit!" She hollered into the open door. He heard her loud and clear, but he stayed glued to the spot, watching the top of her head through the window. "I'll be back in about an hour!"

He tilted his head as he watched her go. How strange that she didn't invite him. It would be the first time she ventured into town without his company. For a second, Sephiroth felt uneasy. But his anxiety was soon washed away as his mind drifted to the town she was about to travel into; everyone in the settlement knew them, and everyone, it seemed, went out of their way to make the flower girl happy.

Sephiroth averted his attention to the book on his bed. It seemed out of place on the neat, tight sheets of the bed, and the general looked at the strange book with the same curiosity as he had regarded Aerith's actions before. Making his way to the bed, he sat down. He picked up the book and ran his fingers over the cover like he had earlier. Yes, it was definitely monster skin. Of what kind, he couldn't be sure; the book could have been made anywhere in the world before it decided to settle upon the bookshelf in the cabin of the kind doctor.

A very strange sensation ran through Sephiroth. Should he open it? It was a book, after all, and therefore meant to be read. But other questions tugged at Sephiroth's mind, and he found his curiosity of the book, rather than what the book was about, rise. How old was the book? Who had it belonged to before the doctor? What kind of monster skin bound it? Sephiroth could feel a slight smile tugging at his lips, something that had never before happened so genuinely or easily.

He was truly curious, over a simple book.

Well, it didn't matter what the book was about; Sephiroth crossed his legs and prepared to open it. For some strange reason, his heart sped up. Was the book full of secrets, like where the best treasure could be found? Or could it be all about monsters, where to find them, how much gil they carry, or what items they often take from travelers? Was it someone's diary?

The last thought thrilled him for some unknown reason. Knowing about the past, even if not his own, was something that Sephiroth enjoyed. It was more combat related than one might think, however. Mistakes were something Sephiroth did not enjoy making. His biggest mistake had been underestimating his opponent, a mistake that had lead to his ultimate demise. If it was a diary, he could read up on the person's mistakes and be sure that he himself would never commit them.

Almost too eagerly, Sephiroth flipped open the cover. The page was blank. He flipped to the next page. It, too, was empty. Another page. Nothing. Another. Nothing. Another. The entire book was blank.

A wave of disappointment washed through Sephiroth's veins. He glared down at the book in his hands as if it had committed an atrocious sin.

Then, an idea slowly formed in his mind. Perhaps _he_ should use it as a diary. He had never tried actually writing down his thoughts, or even personal experiences, and ever since his voice had abandoned him the inside of his mind had been a complete jumbled jungle of reflection and deliberation. Even the tiniest of ideas made a large impact on the general. Before, he hadn't given the slightest damn about anything other than his ambition, but time, or so it seemed, was standing still while he and the flower girl occupied the small cabin in the woods, and because of such, his mind had started to wonder about things that never had appealed to him before.

Why did the fireflies dance in between the trees in the dark, right before bed- who were they searching for? Why did the morning smell different than the evening? Why did the rain always make the day better? Why did fresh things taste so wonderful? What were the tunes Aerith hummed as she dutifully performed the chores no one asked her to do? Why, if Sephiroth had murdered her, did she care for him? Why, every night before bed, did she let the emotions fall from her face and tell him that she forgave him?

The downstairs door opened, releasing Sephiroth of the web of thought he had only just woven himself into. "I'm home!" Aerith's chipper voice called up the stairs as the general heard the door shut. "Sephiroth?"

Sephiroth closed the empty book and tossed it upon his pillow as he stood and strode out of the room, making his way down the stairs. He watched as Aerith placed a rather large cardboard box upon the island in the kitchen, wild grin spread across her face. "Come here- I have something for you!"

Creasing his brow, wondering what in blazes she was talking about, Sephiroth closed the last few feet between them as the small flower girl began to dig inside of the box. She apparently found what she was looking to give him, as a mischievous grin appeared upon her face as she hid whatever it was she wanted to present to him behind her back.

"You have to close your eyes, because it's a surprise!" Sephiroth was sure she couldn't hold in the child-like giggle that escaped her lips, even if she had wanted to.

He rolled his eyes and glared at her, not feeling up to her silly game.

Still, she beamed up at him. "Close your eyes!" she repeated. "And hold out your hands!"

Sephiroth sighed, but did as he was told for lack of a better idea. Perhaps she bought him more cake- she had, after all, laughed when he swallowed his piece nearly whole earlier that day, hardly chewing the spongy delicacy and nearly suffocating. What could he defend himself with? He had never tasted cake before, and it was good. Not the best, he was sure, but delicious regardless.

The general felt something hard and square be dropped into his hands, along with a few, long, skinny, hard objects. Right away he knew what she presented him with wasn't edible, but he opened his eyes all the same and looked down at the present she bought for him. Inside his large palms lay a small, green notebook, accompanied by several pencils and a few pens.

Looking up at her with curiosity, Sephiroth's facial expression asked a question his voice could not- 'what the hell is this'?

Aerith let out another child-like giggle. "It's a notebook for you, so you can write down things you want to say to me so I may read them, instead. I mean, since your voice is gone and all…"

Sephiroth was rather taken aback. Her thoughtfulness blew his mind past its current standing and further out into space. He had no voice, but now, because of her cleverness, he had something nearly as good.

However, Aerith took his silence for something else. Her expression fell, and she lowered her head. "I'm sorry. It's kind of dumb, huh? I guess I really didn't think it through. I just thought…" Sephiroth watched her bite her lip, her cheeks turning slightly pink for the second time that day in his presence. "I… I'll start dinner."

Aerith turned on her heel and suddenly made herself very busy with what she had brought home in the box.

It took several moments for Sephiroth to realize that time was still moving, despite how slow his mind was functioning. He placed the notebook on the counter and flipped open to the first page. Uncapping one of the pens, Sephiroth scribbled something quickly, and then moved to where Aerith stood beside the sink. Almost hesitantly, he held out the notebook, allowing her to read what he had written.

She looked up at him for a moment and then gazed down at his messy handwriting. Squinting her eyes, Aerith slowly read what he had written. She smiled up at him. "Would you mind setting the table?"

Sephiroth nodded and set the notebook down. Upon the first page was a short message.

'_Thank you- you have given me a voice.'_


	9. Gift

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 9: Gift

The rest of the week had flown by faster than Sephiroth thought could be possible. They had been together, he and the flower girl, stuck in the tiny log cabin in the woods on the outskirts of town, for nearly a month. Sephiroth felt that, by now, cabin fever should have spread through his veins, but it was relatively the opposite- a daily schedule and routine was quite comforting. It reminded him that while fighting still existed in the world, there were always times of peace and tranquility hidden in pockets away from the heat of battle. Waking up every morning and knowing what he was going to do served to calm his nerves into an even more relaxed state.

Aerith, much to the general's secret delight, had taught him how to bake that in which he had become enthralled with; cake. She had, however, introduced a new, just as delicious sugary snack in which Sephiroth was also infatuated over; pie. Oh the joys of it all. Though Aerith had taught him how to make the delicious treats in which he found great pleasure in consuming, he was highly critical of his own work and was convinced that Aerith's cooking was far better than his own. Besides- the fact that he wore yellow rubber gloves while he did the dishes took a large chunk out of his dignity already, not to mention an equally large portion from his ego. He was just thankful that Aerith didn't ask him to wear an apron. Oh the frilly, cherry-printed horror, complete with a breast pocket and several singe-marks.

Despite the amount of cake and pie he consumed, Aerith always made sure that the general ate just as much healthy and hearty foods. One night, as Sephiroth was working on his second piece of cake, she had commented with a light smile and laugh that at the rate in which he was currently ingesting his dearest dessert, he was bound to grow pudgy. From that night forth, Sephiroth declined seconds on cake.

The week, however, did not go on without some sort of progress, aside from cake and pie making, of course. Sephiroth had begun to write in his newfound diary every night before bed. With his thoughts having been jumbled, as always, by Aerith's 'I forgive you' line, he found that it was the best time to spill everything out. The diary wasn't, however, of just how he felt. He refused to talk anything of his past life. His former existence was a shadow that lurked over him now. Rather than that, he wrote of things that had happened from the beginning, when Aerith had saved his life and given up her birthright of the Promised Land simply to allow him passage back into his body. He wrote of how he owed her more than she could, quite honestly, comprehend, having given him a second chance when nothing else would even hear of such a thing. He wrote of her kindness, and how the people in the town were always happy to see her. He wrote of their walks, and in side margins would sometimes sketch little pictures of things they had seen in the forest during their walks. He wrote of little things, as well; not having a voice caused one to notice small things that normally are overlooked, like the way Aerith held herself when she walked, or even spoke. Her posture would change depending on who she was talking to and what she was talking about, and outside in her garden she would often make little sounds, soft coos, almost like that of a dove, when she was deep in thought, staring deeply down at her flower seeds that had yet to sprout.

Everything was changing, though it felt as if time was standing still. Their clothes smelled of a new laundry detergent than the week before. The windows seemed to sparkle in the afternoon sun, rather than in the morning, a sure sign the days were to become warmer and longer. The lawn had been properly rid of all weeds. A flower vase now adorned the dining room table, and every three days Sephiroth would accompany Aerith to the florists' shop while she picked out flowers. The florist was so enamored of Aerith's love of plants, as was as well very grateful for the several tips the small Cetra had given her, that he personally helped her pick out a new batch of flowers when they came in. Even on days that flowers were not needed, the florist would smile brightly at Aerith and hand her a single flower. The fact that the florist looked to be Aerith's own age and captivated by her kindness and beauty was the main reason Aerith was constantly supplied with fresh flowers. For some unbeknownst reason to Sephiroth, he felt rather offended the way she smiled at the young man and would often make a point of himself by standing as close as possible to Aerith while they were in the vicinity of the flower shop. She didn't, however, say anything to his closeness while inside the shop, and Sephiroth took such as a rather good gesture, meaning she either didn't mind the fact that the florist was flirting with her, or that Sephiroth was so close to her. Either way, the general had convinced himself that he didn't care, though he made it a point to give a nasty glare over his shoulder at the young man as they walked from the store, always careful to make sure that Aerith's back was turned.

It wasn't until Sephiroth watched Aerith place a calendar upon the wall did he even begin to think of the time of year it was. As soon as the thumbtack was rightfully in place and Aerith had once again set upon her garden, Sephiroth looked up at it. A beautiful snow-covered landscape picture adorned the first month to be shown- February.

A small marking was written in pen upon one of the date boxes. Peering closer, Sephiroth took note that it was the seventh. Why the seventh? Sephiroth squinted his eyes in order to see the small handwriting in the corner of the box. It was clearly marked '23/25?'

What on earth did that mean? He read it again. Twenty-three slash twenty-five question mark- no mistaking it.

Sephiroth looked over the countertop and peered out the front door at Aerith, whom was busy watering her flower garden. The general furrowed his brow in thought. What on the face of the planet did that mean? He looked back to the calendar. Aerith had placed a small mark through the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth of the month. Assuming the obvious, Sephiroth dubbed those the days that had already passed, meaning that it was currently the sixth. The box for the next day held the strange message only Aerith knew the meaning of.

Still confused, Sephiroth turned his head back toward the window in the front. Aerith stood with her back toward the general, hands on her hips, apparently deep in thought. The flowers that she had planted earlier that week were showing no signs of wanting to sprout, despite Aerith's constant watering and weeding. On more than one occasion she had expressed her unhappiness to Sephiroth, but Sephiroth knew no more of flowers than he did about females, so he simply shrugged with a passive look upon his face.

"I'll be old and crusty by the time you decide to sprout for me!" he heard her exclaim through the open window. Again, his brow furrowed. Surely what she said was merely a figure of speech, but Sephiroth could not help the mental image that sprang into his head; an elder Aerith, hunched over the flower patch, sour look upon her face, glowering down at the seeds that lay hidden under a thin later of topsoil. He didn't know if he should laugh or not.

Then, something hit him. Age. Of course! Sephiroth turned back to the calendar on the wall. In the hospital a month before, Aerith had commented that it was two years since they had died. February seventh was her birthday, and Aerith was confused; physically, she was to be 23, however, technically, she was to be 25, ignoring the fact that she had been gone for two years. She plainly was rather confused over the predicament, so she marked both ages on the calendar.

Wasn't it a tradition to give someone a gift on his or her birthday? Sephiroth pondered this for a few minutes. Should he get her something? She hadn't plainly marked anything on the calendar indicating that she wanted the general to know that it was her birthday, so perhaps she wasn't expecting anything. The reminder was, most likely, simply for herself. However, Sephiroth felt compelled to actually do something different for a change. He had started writing in a diary, he washed dishes, swept floors, set tables, went on leisure walks in the woods, and even wore bright yellow rubber gloves; doing things he wasn't used to was becoming a daily regimen for him, so why stop simply because he had never before celebrated a birthday? Besides; she had bought him the gift of the pencils and notebook in which he used nearly everyday to communicate with those around him- she deserved something in return for her kindness and thoughtfulness, didn't she?

Baking Aerith a cake was the first thing that sprang to Sephiroth's mind, but the general had to remind himself that his cooking skills were lacking, and Aerith could cook far better than he could. The small fact that it was, indeed, crossed his mind; it was only he who was enamored with the spongy frosted substance.

She liked flowers, but she had enough of them from the florist in town, so Sephiroth's second idea flew out the window faster than the first.

Never having had to shop for a woman before, Sephiroth's brain was, quite honestly, being put to the test. Chocolates were out; what was the point of store-made things when Aerith could just as easily make better tasting sweets in their own kitchen? The general's mind drifted to the chocolate-dipped strawberries she had made only two days prior and his mouth began to water at the mere memory of them.

Frowning, Sephiroth pushed the notion of sweets from his head. She needed something unique, something that could be both beautiful and practical. Thinking of something that met such standards proved to be much more of a challenge than was expected.

After nearly a half an hour of debating with himself over gifts while leaning against the countertop, Sephiroth ran into another problem: money. Having nearly all of what they needed provided for them by the generous people of the village, he hadn't seen a single gil. The words of the kind doctor, however, filtered through his mind, and he remembered the offer the doctor had made: 'Any time you need a job, come on by. I am sure that we can scrounge up something for you to do around here.'

Perfect. With his money problem solved, Sephiroth merely needed to decide on what to buy Aerith for her birthday.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted as Aerith entered the house and removed her shoes next to the door, being careful to take her gardening gloves off and place them atop her boots rather neatly. Sephiroth looked to the window again; it was beginning to grow dark outside.

"Care for dinner?" Aerith beamed at him, walking to the kitchen.

Sephiroth nodded and followed her.


	10. Effort

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 10: Effort

The light from the newly risen sun peaked through the slits in the blinds, flooding Sephiroth's room with a warm glow despite the fact that the sun had only just stretched over the horizon. Pale eyelids fluttered opened and let loose upon the world a pair of iridescent eyes. Not long before, or so it had seemed to the man lying in the bed, had Aerith told him, as she did every night before they turned in, that she forgave him. His mind swam with her words, as it always did, while he leaned against the inside of his door, waiting to hear the soft click of her bedside lamp as she climbed into bed. He had not yet placed his head on his down pillow when his eyes crashed closed and he fell into the bliss of dreamless sleep. Now, awoken by his own sense of time, Sephiroth realized how late it was; he had hoped to escape the confines of the house before the sunrise.

Quickly standing, Sephiroth dressed as quietly as he could. Closing his bedroom door behind him, he soundlessly descended the stairs. Stopping momentarily in front of the dining table, Sephiroth pulled from his coat a large, red flower that he had picked whilst he and Aerith had walked through the forest the previous day; he knew it would mean something to her. Once he was sure the flower girl would see the flower he had left when she decided to join the world of the living and travel down the stairs to begin her breakfast, he left.

The crisp, clean air of the forest greeted him and filled the general's lungs with the first scents of the day. The dew clung fast to the thick blades of grass lining the walk into town, and by the time the general stumbled out of the forest and onto the cobblestone walk that led to the hospital, every inch of his boots from ankle down was sopping wet. He was glad his boots were waterproof.

Sliding on their hinges, the mechanical doors of the hospital opened, allowing Sephiroth access to all inside. He had never before ventured into a hospital willingly; those from the village had taken he and Aerith when they first arrived. Unsure of what to do, Sephiroth pulled out the small notebook Aerith had supplied him with, and a pen. He scribbled a note inside of it, then proceeded to the front desk. The same nurse whom Sephiroth had signed the papers for looked up to greet him. She snapped her chewing gum, then, upon the realization of who it was, sat up straight and peered at the silver-haired man curiously.

"Back again, are you?" she teased. "I hope you didn't get hurt again!"

Sephiroth shook his head, extending the arm with his notebook. The nurse peered curiously up at the general, then down at the piece of paper, as if only just remembering that he couldn't talk.

'Where is Rej?' her mouth sounded out. Sephiroth frowned inwardly at himself; was his handwriting truly that hard to read?

The nurse looked back up at him. She pointed a long, slender finger down the corridor. "He's in room fifty-six, the office at the end of the hall."

Sephiroth nodded his thanks to her.

She smiled in return. "Glad to be of service," she bowed her head and let out a small laugh, then promptly returned to the paperwork on her desk.

Fifty-four. Fifty-five. Fifty-six. Sephiroth rapped the back of his knuckles on the door. He heard a faint muffled sound from inside, as well as the scuffling of feet, and before he knew it the door had sprung open. A rather exasperated-looking doctor stood in the doorway, one hand remaining on the doorknob, the other ruffling his already messy hair. The moment he looked up to see Sephiroth standing before him, however, his expression grew light and cheery. "I was wondering when I'd next see the two of you."

Sephiroth shook his head.

Looking confused for a moment, Rej looked about and was bewildered to realize that Sephiroth stood alone. A look of curiosity spread across the doctor's face, but he motioned for Sephiroth to follow him inside his office, regardless. Sitting behind his wooden desk, Rej looked to the man sitting across it. "What can I do for you?" he inquired, placing his hands on his desk.

Sephiroth placed his notebook on the desk and began scribbling furiously on the lined paper. After he finished, he handed it to Rej.

'I need a job for the day- payment at the end is requested; there is something that needs my immediate attention.'

Sephiroth watched as Rej leaned against the back of the chair, looking the general over. Cautiously, Sephiroth reached over and retrieved his notebook, pulling it closer and scribbling another message.

'You said if either of us needed a job, you would supply us with one.'

He pushed it toward the skeptic doctor who read the sentence and nodded. "I know what I said, but-"

Pulling the notebook back once again, Sephiroth wrote yet another message.

'Please.'

Rej leaned further back into his chair. Slowly, he exhaled. It was Sephiroth who held his breath. Smiling, Rej nodded. "I can give you work, but it won't be fun."

Sephiroth, relieved, let out his breath and shook his head, signaling that he didn't much care.

"Just for one day, then?" the physician queried.

This time, Sephiroth nodded.

Again, Rej sat back in his chair. He adjusted himself so as one foot rested cross upon the opposing knee, and his hands knit themselves together to form a net in which he leaned his head against. "May I ask as to why you seem to need this money in a hurry? Is everything okay at the house? Is Aerith sick? Are you going hungry?"

Sephiroth slowly shook his head from side to side. His sense of pride would not allow him to tell the man before him, no matter how kind or understanding he may be, the truth behind wanting the pay. Keeping silent and still, Sephiroth made no move toward his notebook, showing the doctor in front of him that what was the matter wasn't much of his business, as cruel as it may have seemed. There were certain things in life Sephiroth would not admit to openly, and being guilty of wanting to buy a woman a birthday gift was, quite honestly, the last thing on his admittance list. Somehow, he figured the doctor would understand, though not the entire meaning behind it, that his dilemma had something to do with Aerith, and something else that he was far from willing to speak of.

Rej stood. Sephiroth followed his example. "Follow me," he motioned for the general to trail him. Sephiroth didn't hesitate.

Down the halls and around many corners they traversed. Sephiroth was rather surprised to see how large the hospital really was on the inside; on the outside, it didn't look nearly as large. Rej slowed enough to swipe a key-card through the door directly in front of them, then proceeded through it, not bothering to look behind him to see whether or not the silver-haired man was keeping pace.

Rej stopped, and Sephiroth peered around the broad shoulders of the doctor in front of him to see what had caused him to do so. "This is what we need done, if you are up for it."

Sephiroth started, perplexed, at the many boxes that lined the walls of the storage room. Near the door stood a small trolley. The general pieced together what it was he was going to be doing.

"I need you to move and organize the boxes in this room to various locations around the hospital." He looked to Sephiroth. "You might want to get out your book and take notes, it gets confusing." Though the statement was serious enough, Rej smiled lightly when he said it.

Sephiroth did as was suggested and the doctor continued. "All boxes labeled with a black lettering are to stay here. Don't worry about those; just stack them neatly in the back. The boxes with red lettering are to go to Celia, the woman at the front desk." Again, Rej smiled. "I know you can guess who she is. All boxes with blue labels are to be delivered to the x-ray lab at the far end of the building. If you go straight once you get out of this door, it's at the very end. Yellow boxes go to room seventy-eight; orange boxes go to room seventy-nine; green boxes go to room fifteen, the staff lounge; purple boxes go to my office, room fifty-six."

Sephiroth finished scribbling the various destined locations of the boxes inside the storeroom and looked up at the doctor who only continued to stare in return. Rej then shook his head. "You goofy kids," he laughed. "I am glad you decided to take me up on this job offer, however. It's good to know that you're taking care of Aerith." Suddenly, Rej narrowed his eyes. The doctor almost looked menacing in the dim light of the storeroom. Almost. "You are taking care of her, right?"

Sephiroth paused, not sure what to make of the question that had been forced at him. Scribbling below the directions he only just wrote, he proceeded to show the doctor his newest note.

'Truthfully, she is the one taking care of me.'

It wasn't something that the general really wanted to admit out loud; his wellbeing directly in correlation with the flower girl with whom he shared a house with was, to a large extreme now that he thought on it, embarrassing. Never in his life had he been so dependant on another human. It was almost frustrating… but not quite.

Happy with the response he received, Rej's face softened and the kind doctor placed a hand on Sephiroth's shoulder. "Return the favor to her one day, you hear?" He laughed, softly. Sephiroth didn't know what to make of the situation. It was, to say the very least, awkward. "Well," he continued, removing his hand from Sephiroth's shoulder. "When you finish I'll be in my office." Rej handed Sephiroth the key-card he had used earlier. "Good luck"

Sephiroth looked at the task before him. What in the angel's names had he plunged head first into?

Retrieving the trolley from behind the door, Sephiroth began moving boxes about, organizing them into colors, with the larger boxes on the bottom. When his first pile had been completely assembled, he turned to the clock. It had taken him nearly an hour to organize just one color. He felt the unyielding need to groan.

Carefully, he loaded all the boxes that could fit onto the trolley and started out the door. He looked down at them again in the light of the hall, making sure they were, indeed, red. He set off toward the front desk.


	11. Reward

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 11: Reward

The calming moonlight filtered through the slits in the blinds that lined the hospital's windows. Sephiroth walked, proud and tall, if not a little sore, down the hallway, pacing through moonlight and darkness alike. Only moments before, he had delivered the last of the color-coded boxes to their designated places about the hospital. He was, to say the least, very pleased with his own work. Not only had he not made a single mistake, he had been rewarded by many of the nurses with hand-baked goodies throughout the day to keep his strength up. One woman had brought him cake. Immediately, the silver-haired man knew the little slice of delight to be store bought; it tasted of fillers and air but, at the very minimal aspect, it had been moist and sweet.

Once again, he counted the numbers on the door as he passed them; fifty-four; fifty-five; fifty-six; Rej's office. Sephiroth rapped the back of his knuckles on the stained wood door and waited for a reply. The nurses and other faculty of the building had long since left the hospital for their homes and families. Somehow, Sephiroth knew that Rej had remained, if only for him.

"Come in," the reply sounded at last.

Slowly and carefully, Sephiroth opened the door to the doctor's office. Unlike the dimly lit hallway the general had only just traversed through, Rej's office was bright with artificial light. The doctor turned to face the man in his office. "I didn't expect you to work this late," he chuckled. "I suppose you finished it all, then?"

Sephiroth nodded. He had, indeed, finished all that had been set before him earlier that day. The dull ache in his back reminded him of such.

Rej produced a small envelope from his pocket and handed it to the silver-haired man before him. Sephiroth reached out to retrieve it, but paused when Rej refused to let go. "Take care of her, you hear? I can guarantee that you won't find another girl like her."

Puzzled, Sephiroth pulled the envelope out of Rej's grasp when the doctor finished his statement. There was a strange tension in the room, and though Sephiroth could not name it, he knew it was there, thicker than the air.

Rej's face softened slightly. "I didn't mean for that to sound so menacing," he confessed. "When the two of you were first brought in, I had a chance to talk to Aerith. Though she refused to tell me who you were, the way she spoke of you made me notice how incredibly caring and kind she was. Taking care of you reaps her no reward, as you may have noticed. You, just as well, receive nothing while constantly keeping her company."

Sephiroth paused to think of this. What the doctor said wasn't true, in the slightest. The flower girl had invited him to live with her; her reward for looking after him was his constant company. That was what she wanted, and that was what he provided for her, without really knowing it. While living with her, Sephiroth had learned many things he might have never given a second thought, such as the daily tasks of cooking and cleaning. While in the military, Sephiroth had never bothered with pots and pans and all of that. He would simply slay a monster in the woods, skin it, skewer it, and cook it over an open flame he brought forth using materia. He didn't miss any of it. Fully cooked and prepared food was far better than anything he had killed and ate like a cave man. Aside from that, depending on the monster, skinning was quite rigorous, especially with only a large katana to work with. Snapping out of his reminiscence, Sephiroth looked up at the doctor again. Rej's face had lightened considerably.

"I don't know if you have realized this, but your young friend seems very dedicated to you." At this point in time, Rej smiled. "It's your duty to take care of her in return."

Not knowing what else to do, mind completely blank, Sephiroth nodded to the doctor. The kind man's words had done more than confuse the general; they had left him utterly distraught. A strange feeling began to prickle inside Sephiroth's chest. Spinning on his heel, he quickly left the office, not bothering to look behind him.

'What was _that_ about?' Sephiroth couldn't help but think as he exited through the automated front doors of the hospital. The moonlight beat down upon the path that was set out in cobblestone before him. Sephiroth began down it, hoping that a certain shop in town wasn't closed…

He quickened his pace.

The lights of the small gift shop were beginning to flicker off when Sephiroth stumbled into the store. The elderly woman behind the counter scowled as the bell hung on the door handle gave off a merry little late night jingle, but her face softened considerably when she saw whom it was who had entered. "What can I do your you, sweetie? Is Aerith in need of more recipe cards?"

Sephiroth shook his head. Days before, he and Aerith had wandered into the small store. Naturally, Aerith had befriended the elderly owner right away, and the small old woman had provided more recipe cards to add to the collection Aerith had only just gathered from the baker. This was no time for recipe cards.

"Well, then, what do you need?" Sephiroth ignored the small twinge of animosity that began to leak into the woman's voice. Pulling forth the small notebook from his pocket, Sephiroth scribbled a message in which he promptly presented to the woman.

'I am looking for a gift for her.'

The woman smiled. That smile, for some reason, made Sephiroth uneasy. "Take your time, dear," she offered. Such a statement didn't aid the feeling the old elderly figure gave him.

Sephiroth began to browse. What would Aerith enjoy as a gift? She seemed to like practical things- calendars, clothes, and gardening tools. Just as well, however, she also adored impractical things- flowers, cake, and hair ribbons.

That was it. That pink tattered hair ribbon annoyed the general, though he would never tell her; it was torn and ratted, and she needed a new one, desperately. Sephiroth looked to the old woman. She looked back at him, expectantly. Unsure of what else to do, Sephiroth pointed to his hair whilst making a rather flamboyant sweeping motion. The woman smiled expectantly and pointed to the far corner of the store. Sephiroth nodded in thanks and made his way across the creaking floorboards that groaned under his weight.

Somehow, he hadn't been expecting such a large display of hair ribbons. Why, on the face of the planet, were women always so picky? Different tastes for every one of them, he supposed, grudgingly. He began to sort through the various ribbons.

Never in his strangest dreams had Sephiroth ever thought there could be so many types, colors, sizes, and textures of one of the most pointless accessories on the planet. Sorting through the assorted ribbons, he shook his head, wondering how he had ever managed to dig himself into such a hole. Some ribbons were soft; some were coarse; some ribbons shimmered; others soaked in the light; some ribbons were pleasing soft colors; others were shockingly bright; Sephiroth hadn't the slightest idea what to make of it all.

'I should have bought a cake. That way, I could have enjoy the gift as well.' Had he the ability, Sephiroth would have growled. However, right at that moment, something caught his eyes.

A green ribbon had fallen on to the floor, forgotten and tossed aside. Kneeling down, Sephiroth retrieved the cloth and found, on further inspection, that it was rather beautiful. The emerald green color of the ribbon reminded him of the stark beauty of the emerald eyes of the flower girl. Turning the ribbon over, he found that it had been embroidered with dragons in thin, gold thread.

That was enough to catch his interest completely. Dragons were something Sephiroth was quite fond of, whether he admitted it out loud or not. Dragons represented strength in both physical and mental aspects. The epitome of wisdom and inner beauty, Sephiroth had been fascinated with myth upon myth that circled around the mythical beast. In battle, he had cringed when forced to slay one of the divine beings. It was, however, battle- either the creature was to die, or he would have to forfeit his own life to save it.

Clutching the ribbon tightly in his hand, Sephiroth turned and marched back to the front counter, gently placing fabric on the counter. The woman smiled. "I know she'll love that one," she all but giggled. Sephiroth paid the woman her said amount and quickly left the store after the ribbon had been placed carefully into a small paper bag.

The walk back to the cabin was quiet, to say the least. The chirping of the crickets reminded him that they kept him company as he walked. They didn't judge him, and in return, he didn't bother them. Allowing them to play their song, he slowed his paced and enjoyed the tiny orchestra that played for him in the moonlight. The grass around the path was as wet as it had been when he had left earlier that morning, and for the second time that day, Sephiroth was glad his boots were high.

He stopped when the cabin came into view. The outside light was on, spilling brightness upon the darkened earth. A slumped figure was crouched over the stump Sephiroth had cut clear the day before. The general could hear sharp intakes of breath, and he quickly grew wary of the situation. What was happening?

Apprehensively, Sephiroth approached the clearing, only just becoming aware that he had left Masamune in its snug place in the back of the coat closet next to the door. Bending low and taking small steps, he crouched closer to get a better look at the shaking figure on the stump.

It only took him a few moments to realize that it was, in fact, Aerith upon the stump. Her back was to him, her face in her hands, and she was weeping.

Stepping quickly out of the shadows, Sephiroth entered the clearing. When foliage crunched under the weight of his bulky boots, the crying Aerith looked up at the silhouetted figure. He heard the flower girl's sharp intake of breath as she turned to see who had intruded upon her small garden.

The general stood as still as a stone statue, small paper bag, ribbon safely inside, clutched tightly in his strong hands. Suddenly, almost in a fit of rage, he pulled his notebook from his pocket; walking toward Aerith's sitting figure, he presented her with his message.

'Who did this to you?'

Aerith peered curiously at the message scribbled upon the parchment in Sephiroth's handwriting for several moments. It was almost as if she didn't understand the question. Suddenly, however, her face contorted and Sephiroth gazed upon, for the first time, a completely furious flower girl. Taken aback, Sephiroth retreated as Aerith stood to meet him.

She held up a wilted flower. Sephiroth looked first to the flower, then to the petite woman who held it, and once more back to the flower. He slowly grew confused as a hot trail of tears burned down Aerith's face. She held up the flower that he had left her early that morning. It had meant to be a message, so to speak, that he would be back. Aerith, apparently, had taken his message differently.

"You! You did this to me! You left me! I can't believe you! No note- nothing at all!" Tears continued to fall from the porcelain skin of the flower girl. "I didn't know if you had left me for good, or if you just got sick of me and left for the day! How was I meant to know where you were? I wanted to go into town, but I was too afraid that you really had left! How could you make me worry like that?"

An almost cold-like feeling washed through Sephiroth's veins. What was it he was experiencing? Was it guilt for making her worry because of him? Or perhaps it was the fact that she had waited for him all day, and long into the night. By the look on her face, worrying was all she had done that day, save for crying, of course. He should have left a note.

But how was he to know that she would react so to the flower he had left? He had meant it to be a show of trust- he would return before the flower wilted. By the way the flower in her outstretched hand looked, the poor thing hadn't left Aerith's hand all day.

Why had she worried so much about him? Was she truly that afraid of being alone? Honestly, was his company worth keeping; it wasn't as if he was a good conversationalist.

Sheepishly, Sephiroth began to scribble in his notebook once Aerith's frantic breathing had returned to a normal pace. Cautiously, Sephiroth held out his new message for Aerith to read.

'Happy Birthday.'

Aerith's face immediately let fall the fit of fury that had taken over it only moments before. A new trail of tears blazed down her face, but this time, she smiled, tentatively. "How did you know?" The mood had obviously lightened considerably.

Sephiroth shrugged and scribbled a new message in his notebook. 'I saw the calendar and took a wild guess.'

Aerith wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, weakly smiling. "Oh." That was all she managed to squeeze out. Based on what Sephiroth could interpret, given her facial expression, she was feeling rather awkward over having yelled at him when, in the long run, he had been trying to do something nice.

Sephiroth held out the hand that contained the small paper bag. Aerith looked at it, puzzled. "For me?" It was astonishment that filtered freely through her voice. Her face filled with surprise. Sephiroth merely nodded.

Carefully, Aerith took the bag from Sephiroth's outstretched hand, still holding her flower in the other. Almost afraid of what it was the bag contained, Aerith slowly unfolded it and pulled out its contents for the entire world to see. The gift stole the breath right out of her chest.

"It's beautiful," she whispered into the night air. She looked up at him, her eyes alight with emotion. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

Sephiroth wasn't entirely sure what happened next, but as soon as he had finished blinking, he felt Aerith's small arms wind around his waist. Her face was planted firmly against his lower chest, and based off the way she was shaking, Sephiroth knew she had started to weep once more.

An extremely tight feeling exploded inside Sephiroth's chest. The sensation was as new to him as walking on the moon might be for a kitten. He felt the need to do something, but his limbs had suddenly, much to his own dismay, gone completely numb. Why did he feel the way he did? The feeling welling up inside of him was nearly as confusing as the woman wound around his waist!

Pulling back with a slight giggle, Aerith unwound her arms from around Sephiroth's waist. What was the faint color that tinted her cheeks to a lovely rosy hue? Why did it feel as though there was a source of heat on his face?

Aerith placed the ribbon and flower between her teeth as she reached behind her head and undid her hair. Begin ever mindful to keep the braid complete and not disrupt it, Aerith attempted to tie her new green ribbon in her hair. She, however, failed miserably. Turning around, she let her back face the man with platinum hair. "Will you help me? I seem to be disabled, at the moment."

Furrowing his brow and glad that she couldn't see him do it, Sephiroth set about tying the dragon-embroidered cloth into Aerith's hair. Though, like many other things he would never admit to out loud, Sephiroth noticed the softness that was Aerith's hair as he set to tying it up and how very much alike it was in regards to his own hair and the texture of it all. If there was one thing Sephiroth still took great pride in, it was his long, sleek, silver mane. He believed it to make him a more ominous presence in the company of enemies. Even monsters fled from him. But Aerith's hair, while it felt as soft and wonderful as his did, wasn't meant to be added as a fear factor upon her person; it was simply how she was. Besides, he somehow doubted that she would look good with shorter hair.

Slipping out of his strange little dream world, Sephiroth finished tying a very delicate bow.

Aerith turned again to face him. "I bet you are hungry, huh?" She smiled up at him, genuinely. "Well, I guess we will be eating late tonight!" turning on her heel, Aerith wandered into the house, hurriedly.

Letting out a small sigh, Sephiroth pondered what had occurred in the span of a few minutes as he stood still in the garden. He peered up at the moon, hoping for answers, but the pearly orb simply hung in the sky as it always did, not offering advice, but not judging the man's discord, either. When she was pressed firmly against his chest, tears of apparent happiness streaming down her face, Aerith had whispered something into the folds of Sephiroth's shirt.

"I forgive you."

It was always the same, night after night.

But this time, Sephiroth felt it had meant far more. Her eyes, after all, had been so full of emotion they leaked upon his clothes when she pressed against him.

Sephiroth, again, questioned himself.

What did it all mean?

The moon hung in the air, quietly watching him as he let out another small sigh. It was still there when he fell asleep hours later, but even then, it offered nothing- only, and always, light.


	12. Interruption

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 12: Interruption

Slowly, Sephiroth opened his eyes and greeted the new morning sunlight that trickled through the window with a tremendous yawn and a languid stretch that would make the most agile of felines jealous. Turning his head toward the small clock hung upon the wall across his room, he sat up suddenly, realizing what time it was; he had slept in nearly two hours past his normal waking time of dawn. As he peeled off the feathered comforter, something caught his eye as it fell to the floor. A fresh pair of clothes had already been laid out for him by the ever dutiful Aerith. Furrowing his brow, Sephiroth pondered how she could have slipped into his room without waking him; his attuned senses should have woken him up. Had he the ability, Sephiroth would have grumbled over how careless he had become. His senses were beginning to dull simply because he had become comfortable in the presence of the flower girl.

Standing up, Sephiroth pushed the rest of his thoughts from his head as he dressed. He could hear the clanking and banging of pots and pans down the stairs and decided, perhaps, it was time to descend and see what his pink-clad flower girl was up to. When he appeared upon the bottom step, Aerith looked up and smiled over the counter at the man whom stood with one hand on the stair railing.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," she twittered. "Have a good rest?"

Sephiroth nodded, awkwardly. He had, strangely enough, slept rather well.

Suddenly, the small egg-timer that sat near her on the counter began to ring, signaling to the brunette that whatever it was that was inside the oven had finished baking. Scurrying to the oven, Aerith pulled a steaming pan of cinnamon rolls and placed them on the cutting board. She pulled off the oven mitts that adorned her tiny hands and looked back up to the man whom now stood in front of her. She smiled at him once more.

"Once they cool off we can eat them."

Sephiroth nodded as Aerith turned away from him, placing her oven mitts back into their proper drawer. His eyes then fell to emerald ribbon embedded in her lush chestnut locks. Sephiroth couldn't deny that the color was one that looked good on her; even a blind man would be able to tell such a thing. It, however strange as it was, pleased him immensely to know that it had been he himself who had picked out such a fetching gift. The way her eyes had lit up the night before when she had pulled it out of the small paper bag -not a proper way to wrap a gift, he was certain- had done something to him. He wanted to see that same look on her face more often. Seeing her happy and pleased was one thing; he wanted to see that breathless smile on her countenance again. Seeing her so happy had, oddly enough, made him happy.

Pulling Sephiroth out of the mess of thoughts he had entangled himself into, Aerith's voice sounded, informing the general that the cinnamon rolls were fit for consuming, that being just what Sephiroth was hoping for. Cake was good, but it was far from a breakfast food. Cinnamon rolls were the next best thing so early in the morning, especially the way Aerith made them.

Breakfast was consumed in what had become normal fashion for the pair, and the afterward way in which it was cleaned; Aerith made it, and thusly Sephiroth cleaned it up. He was, at least, thankful that there were only two of them. Such a small number of people dining meant that dishes remained small in number, no matter the meal. Aside from it being common courtesy, considering it was Aerith who had cooked it, doing the dishes for her was, in a way, silent thanks. 'The meal was good, so let me clean it for you because you've done enough' sort of thanks, really. He felt she understood, at least, and that he didn't do it out of mere want; it was payment, so to speak.

"I am going into town today." Aerith threw out the comment, knowing it wouldn't surprise the silver-haired man who was up to his elbows in dirty dish water.

He, however, rebounded with a look of curiosity mixed in with boredom. Sephiroth knew that there was nothing they needed at the moment; their food supplies were anything but low, and they both had all they needed for the time being.

She smiled up at him, knowingly. "I just want to visit with the townspeople. I stayed cooped up all day yesterday because I was hoping you'd come back. It didn't occur to me to even talk to anyone in town and see if they had seen you. I was just…"

Sephiroth didn't need her to finish her sentence to understand what she was trying to say; she was so scared that he had left her the day before that all logic had completely fled her mind and left her to cry on the stump outside. Something unfamiliar and almost painful struck Sephiroth's chest when he thought of how he had made her worry all day. He should have left a note…

"Would you like to come with me?" she proposed, leaning against the counter beside him.

Sephiroth pondered for a moment. He had, after all, worked from dawn until dusk the day before; a day of relaxation was in order, was it not? He nodded, returning then to the dishes in front of him.

When said dishes had been properly washed, dried, and placed in their respected places within the cupboards and drawers, the general and the flower-girl made their way down the stone path and into town. Sephiroth noted that it was again the weekly porting day- many ships from foreign continents, countries, and cities made their way to the coast and harbored in the bay. Trading ships full of foreign treasures bobbed in the water next to vessels wanting only supplies to take with them. Foreigners with dark skin talked with the owners of shops while tourists took pictures of wildlife. All the while, Aerith and Sephiroth moved in between the masses.

Their first stop was, of course the bakery. The elderly man behind the counter greeted Aerith with his usual bright smile. The pair twitted as the elder of the two kneaded a fresh batch of dough behind the counter, Sephiroth content to simply lean against the bakery window and wait, watching the crowd pass by. Something glistened in the sun outside the bakery window, and Sephiroth had to squint to keep from going blind. He didn't need another disability heaped on top of the one he already had. As soon as the light had appeared, however, it vanished. Browsing the crowd from the inside of the bakery, the general furrowed his brow in concern. That flash of light had seemed so familiar…

A light touch on the general's shoulder nearly scared his brain, in which had only just been in deep thought, right out of his platinum-covered head. He turned and watched a small smile spread across Aerith's lips. "Did I scare you?" Was she teasing him? She only received a glare in return.

"Well, anyway- I'm all done here. I just want to stop by the florists to say hello, and then we can go home." Aerith began to walk in the direction of the flower shop, Sephiroth close at her heels.

Sephiroth took note that the streets were unusually crowded as he and the flower girl walked through the street toward the florist's small shop. The weather was, he noted, extremely warm considering it was only February, meaning that the town they walked through was located somewhere near the equator. From this idea he thusly drew the conclusion that tourist season had just started. Such an assumption would explain all of the people walking with cameras in hand, hordes of children running and shouting at their feet.

The same flash radiated in the bright late-morning sunlight. The light forced Sephiroth to close his eyes and stop, momentarily blinded by whatever the brilliant illumination was. When he forced his eyes open once more, Aerith had already arrived at the flower shop at the end of the lane and was looking around for the location of her companion. It wasn't the flower girl that caught Sephiroth's attention, however.

It was the large mass of spiky blonde hair that was drifting through the crowd that stole Sephiroth's attention. The glare had undeniably come from the colossal sword strapped to the back of the blonde.

Blood turned to ice and hatred melted away into fear, only to be frozen in the limbs of the silver-haired swordsman. Sephiroth couldn't move; all he could do was feel, and he was feeling enough; a torrent of emotions he had never known tore at his being as he stood dead still in the middle of the road, completely frozen with fear where he stood, yet unnoticed by the young blonde who walked the streets. The general officially knew what it was to fear. Oh, don't be fooled; he still hated the blonde with every fiber of his being, however, fear outweighed the want for revenge and blood considering it was the very blonde that slowly was walking in his direction who had succeeded in killing him.

The only thing that ripped Sephiroth from the near blinding-fear that ran through his veins was Aerith's voice calling out his name. Again and again she called out his name and once she spotted him she extended her arm over her head and waved in his direction. "I'm over here, Sephiroth!"

The blonde turned at the mention of such a name. Sephiroth didn't understand for one second why he began to run, but his feet were, thankfully, working faster than his brain was at the moment, and his legs pounded beneath him. Aerith, looking horrified as the general ran toward her, let out a sharp squeal when Sephiroth, all in one languid motion, bent down and picked her up, never once faltering his pace. He didn't dare look behind him for fear of just who might be following him, but he didn't stop running until his feet brought him to the door of the small cabin in the woods.

When he had, indeed, stopped, Aerith wiggled and struggled to get out of his grasp. Sephiroth didn't pay attention, however, and merely unlocked the door and all but tripped over the door frame as he struggled to get inside. It was only when the door was tightly shut did he bother to let Aerith down. He placed both of his hands on ether side of her while he panted heavily. She stood and faced him, hands brought up carefully in front of her, clasping one another. His eyes were closed and his brow was furrowed while he gasped for air, only inches away from Aerith as he leaned against the door to regain his breath.

"Sephiroth?"

As it always did, her voice brought him back to reality. Her large emerald eyes were filled to the brim with worry and curiosity. Quickly assessing the position in which he had pinned her to door, he pulled back and freed her, shocked at his own rashness; aside from carrying her to the hospital when they had first arrived back on the side of the living, he hadn't touched her. Having been to close to her, he felt, suddenly and strangely, awkward.

"Sephiroth, what is it?" her voice begged for an answer. "Was there danger? Should we warn the villagers?"

Shaking his head, Sephiroth pulled out the notebook in which the flower girl had so thoughtfully provided for him earlier. He scribbled something, and then shoved the notebook in her direction.

'I am the only one in danger.'

"Sephiroth, you're not making any sense." She shook her head and handed him back the notebook.

He tore it from her hands, becoming frustrated. He jotted down his message and gave the book back to her.

Her eyes lit up in a way Sephiroth had only seen on one other occasion; when he had given her the ribbon which sat contently in her hair. An unsettling feeling erupted inside Sephiroth and if he wasn't completely sure it was a physical impossibility, he could have sword his heart had sunk into the pit of his stomach.

He had written only one word. To Sephiroth, it was a dreadful prospect. To Aerith, it was delightful.

'Cloud.'


	13. Flight

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 13: Flight

He was shaking, and he could not stop.

She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice. Her eyes sparkled and the smile that spread across her face made his heart sink to the very pit of his stomach.

He held his arms tightly against his own body so she would not see. When she turned and looked into his eyes, however, he saw reflected in emerald his own image; pure, raw emotion had ripped his face open, and he felt venerable for the first time in his life. She read him like the book he used to communicate with her.

Aerith's face fell. "Sephiroth?" Her voice was a whisper, but it rang out in the ears of the man who stood before her.

He was afraid to die, and she was the only other who knew it, who had ever seen the warrior express himself without meaning to. An onslaught of emotions tore at him, and he didn't know how to react, so his body reacted for him. It was not simply the fear of death that loomed over him; it was the fear of losing all he had worked for once again at the business end of the same sword.

This time, things were different. There was no world-domination plot afoot. The only thing that he would lose would be what normal life he had managed to live while in the company of the flower girl. He didn't want to lose any of it; he enjoyed staying under the same roof as Aerith; he liked setting the table and washing the dishes for her; he adored her cake. He _couldn't_ lose it.

'_Is this what it was like, then?'_ he contemplated as he sank to his knees on the hardwood floor. _'Was this what it was like for the thousands of people I killed? Did this same feeling of death loom over them as well? Did they feel like they were suffocating, just as I feel, when I was walking toward them? Oh Gods…'_ Pain twisted in his stomach and Sephiroth felt the overwhelming urge to wretch.

He was, however, cut short of emptying his stomach on the floor when a strong pair of hands hoisted him up. His vision blurred around him as he stumbled up the stairs, led under the arm by the tiny figure next to him in pink. "Use your legs!" she barked at him. He was, at first, completely unaware that is was Aerith who order his feet to move. Never before had he heard her voice so commanding. He almost didn't recognize it. "This is no time to become weak!"

She was right. He struggled to force the world around him to stand still, but when it refused he merely put more effort into moving his feet, right after left, up the stairs and into the hall. If the world would not stop spinning, he couldn't force it to stop. He would, instead, merely force his feet to work correctly, regardless of how the hardwood floor spiraled beneath each step.

The next thing he knew, Sephiroth was pressed against the pink flowered-wallpaper in Aerith's room, shoved behind the door by her tiny hands. He heard voices yelling, but what they said slipped past his grasp of understanding; he still felt sick, but he remained still, Aerith pressing him against wall behind the door with her tiny hands.

He held his breath and waited.

"I saw them come up here, I know I did! I saw it right through the window!" A man's voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs. It was deep, strong, and overflowing with worry, curiosity, and confusion above all else.

"I'm telling you that you're seeing things! Remember what happened in Kalm the other month? You followed some girl all the way home, thinking it was _her_." The new voice was female. Level-headedness, logic, and skepticism were the imprints of emotions her voice rang out with, opposing the views of the male voice.

"So I made a mistake! You have to admit even _you_ thought that girl looked like _her_." The male voice again. He was sure of himself, Sephiroth could tell.

Sephiroth's world slowly came back and he realized where he was and what exactly was going on.

He was hiding behind a door in Aerith's room, with none other than the flower girl pressed firmly against him. Cloud and a companion (Tifa, wasn't it? He couldn't be sure; he had paid little attention to those aside from the puppet) were at the top of the stairs, looking for Aerith. Oh, what a sight it would be if the blonde found the two in their current position…

The exact moment he grasped reality was also the exact moment he began to feel again and, unfortunately for Aerith, it was her sides he grasped tightly with his hands. She inhaled a sharp hiss of shock at the unexpected grip that constricted at her hips, but it was realized a moment too late; Cloud had already heard it.

Loud, bulky boots effortlessly bounded down the small hallway and the door swung open, stopping only millimeters from the back of Aerith's hair. The general could hear his own heart beat in his head as he stared at the back of the blonde who had only just entered through the door. The youth stood in the middle of the room, looking left, then right, for any sign of life. Sephiroth was amazed Cloud couldn't hear the heartbeat pounding in the ears of the general whom stood pressed firmly against a wall, behind a door, tightly grasping the flower girl in his hands.

No one breathed.

Finally, the other woman spoke from down the hall. "Cloud, what are you doing?"

Cloud sighed. "I heard something. I _know_ I did."

Sephiroth could practically hear Tifa roll her eyes and cross her arms. "Cloud, let's go back to the village. It's not right just to barge in on someone's house like this. Maybe the townsfolk will know something."

The blonde paused. For a split second, Sephiroth thought Cloud would turn and see the couple behind the door. To his immense relief, however, Cloud tuned the opposite way, allowing Sephiroth a good view of the back of his head until he was out of the door.

"Sorry, Tiff. I guess you're right."

Two pairs of boots noisily made their way down the stairs.

It was only when the two upstairs heard the front door close did either bother to breathe again.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him. Aerith, letting out a tremendous sigh, let her body go slack against the general. He was sure that she could hear his heart hammering against his chest, faster than a humming birds.

Suddenly, she jerked upright and looked into his eyes. "Gather your things."

It took a few second for Sephiroth to apprehend that she had spoken to him. He furrowed his brow, looking down at her with a look of confusion and curiosity.

Aerith shook her head. "They are going into the village to ask about us. The villagers will surely tell them our names, don't you think? Then everyone will be looking for us. We have to leave."

Sephiroth's heart sunk and rose, all in one beat. He was elated at the prospect of leaving, and saddened by it just as well.

"I know you don't want to be near him, so we'll have to go. It's either your safety or our lives. I am sure Cloud would kill you sooner than look at you." Aerith heaved a heavy sigh. Sephiroth shifted uncomfortably against the wall. Stepping a few paces backwards, Aerith turned her head toward the window on the far side of the room. "I don't mind leaving, so long as you're okay with it." She turned back to him.

Had he a voice, Sephiroth wouldn't have known what to say, regardless. Was she really not going to chase after Cloud? What of her friendship? What of her past life?

Aerith seemed to have read his eyes before she turned and faced the window again. "Just knowing he is well is good enough for me. I would rather you be safe, honestly."

Sephiroth took in a deep breath, not knowing how to react to such a statement. Was she really telling him that she wouldn't mind uprooting the peaceful life they had shared the past month in the small house just for his safety (if not his sanity)? Why were her cheeks turning a pale shade of pink?

The only thing he could do was nod, numbly.


	14. Departure

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 14: Departure

Sephiroth's hand was clutched tightly in that of the flower girl's. Both of their feet pounded against the soft earth beneath them, pumping in perfect unison, tough as was Aerith who led the way. Flashes of the town passed through the trees as the two running upon the forest path remained unseen. A flash of pink, a shadow following suit; the sight of it was very strange indeed, but thankfully none of the villagers, or tourists for such a matter, turned to look at what was flying through the trees only just past the forest border.

Aerith was breathing hard, gasping for air with each step, but her pace didn't slow in the slightest. Sephiroth found himself in awe. He knew her to be nothing of a fighter, but her will was strong and because of it she could most likely perform any task she truly set her mind to. Without realizing it, Sephiroth's mind began to wander its way into the past. She was the reason his plan had failed. At first, he didn't understand how such a small, weak being like the Cetra before him could do anything, save for cast a cure spell. Now, however, he understood. Her will had been far stronger than his.

A mind-numbing crunch brought the general back to the plane of the conscious just in time for his face to meet the warm soil he had only moments before been treading upon. Sephiroth placed his hands on either side of his body and forced himself to sit up. Aerith had stopped running where he had fallen and was at his side before he had time to wipe the dirt from his face.

"Are you alright?" she questioned, falling to her knees beside him, trying to catch her breath.

Sephiroth looked at his ankle, and then looked back up the path he had tripped upon. A large tree root had been uprooted and was sticking out of the ground at his feet. Though Sephiroth's boots may have crushed the spot in which they had come crashing down upon the earth, the side of the root had snagged his foot and pulled him down. The way his ankle throbbed, Sephiroth doubted he would be able to run any further. Hell, he would be lucky to walk again.

"Come on, I'll help you. We have to go." Without waiting for a response from him, Aerith pulled Sephiroth to his feet and placed his arm across her shoulders. Though their pace was significantly slower than before, the harbor could be seen through the trees ahead of them and wasn't far off.

Trying to put as little weight as possible on both his foot and the flower girl proved to be more of a challenge than Sephiroth had expected. Every time his foot touched the ground his leg screamed in pain, but every time he placed his weight on Aerith he heard her grunt from it and immediately felt as if they would both fall.

Thankfully, the forest path melded into the cobblestone that made up the harbor. It was far easier to walk on stone than the forest floor, Sephiroth noted. Regardless of which surface felt better, however, his leg still seared in pain as he walked.

"Barin!" Aerith called after one of the men that ran the docks. The man stopped and looked over his shoulder, searching for whoever had called out his name. His glass eye curled around in its socket as he looked over the heads of the few crewmen that had stopped as well. A bright smile crossed his gruff countenance, however, when he saw Aerith walking his way.

"Aerith, lass! What can I do for ye?"

"Barin, we need your help!" Aerith panted as she stopped in front of the large sailor, gasping for breath.

Spots began to form in Sephiroth's line of vision and he stumbled forward, bringing Aerith down with him. Struggling to stay in reality, Sephiroth's vision went completely black, though his hearing remained as sharp as ever. He felt two strong hands pull him off the wooden planks of the dock and back onto his feet.

"What's been done to ye?" Barin's voice was deep and gruff, but Sephiroth could hear the obvious soft spot the large sailor had for Aerith.

"We have to leave right away!"

"What for, lass? Ye've only been in town for a short while, and-"

"Barin, I promise you that we will be back, but for now we have to get off the island!"

"What's gotten in to ye? Why, 'twas only a few days ago ye came down here and got acquainted with us at the docks! Now, some blonde kid and his lass arrive asking for ye, and all of a sudden ye must take yer leave? Aerith, tell me what the matter is."

"If I were to tell you now, you'd think I was crazy! Please Barin- we have to leave! Please trust me!" The general could hear the franticness in Aerith's voice.

Sephiroth felt numb. His breathing was becoming shallow, and he fought with the overwhelming urge to vomit.

A moment passed.

"Get on the ship, lass, and tend to yer man. I doubt he'll stay in the world of the conscious much longer. I expect ye to be back as soon as ye can, hear?"

"Oh, thank you Barin!"

"No time for chit-chat! Get on the boat"

"And when we do come back, I promise to bake you a million cakes!" Aerith's tone was much lighter than before.

"I expect two million. Go, now. I'll talk to the shipmaster."

Sephiroth could feel Aerith pulling toward what he could only assume was a ship. The world beneath him was spinning as it had when he was in the hospital, and he couldn't make heads or tails of what was up or down. He simply allowed Aerith to continue dragging him onward until he felt a heavy pair of arms lift him onto a wooden deck.

The world became a mass of swirling black.


	15. Journey

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 15: Journey

A feather-soft touch gently brushed up against the side of the general's face, tenderly easing him out of a dreamless sleep. A sweet sound, almost like that of a purring animal, accompanied the sweet contact that ran down the side of his countenance. Expecting to see Aerith above him, Sephiroth opened his eyes.

What he saw was the farthest thing on the planet from the flower girl.

Above Sephiroth stood the largest chocobo he had ever seen.

The great yellow beast nuzzled the side of the general's face again, paying no heed that the man in black had opened his eyes and was rather startled over the entire ordeal.

Sephiroth raised a hand and swatted the muzzle of the large bird away. The bird nipped at his fingers, apparently thinking it a game. Sitting up, he glared at the bird. It merely tilted its head and blinked innocently at him. He placed the tip of his index finger to his lips to suck away the blood that pooled in the small cut the bird had made with its sharp beak. Placing his opposing hand on the chest of the chocobo, Sephiroth pushed back. The chocobo took a few steps backwards, letting out a soft "wark" as it did so, and reached out its neck to once again nuzzle the side of the general's face.

A hearty laugh came from the room, and Sephiroth looked around for whoever had made the noise. A young boy, no older than fourteen, stood near the feet of the general, a large bail of straw in hand. "I see Ella has warmed right up to you." The boy smiled.

Sephiroth merely raised an eyebrow. The boy's smile didn't fade, and he continued to talk. "The girl in pink told me that you couldn't talk. That's okay, though; the other men on this boat tell me that I talk enough for ten men. I'm not really sure if that's an insult, or a compliment." Dropping the bail of straw on the floor, the boy rubbed his dirty hand on his pants, and then held it out for the general to shake. "I'm Remy, and I'm the son of the man who owns this ship."

Suddenly remembering Aerith, Sephiroth stood, shaking the loose straw from his clothes, then lett go of the boy's hand. He looked around the small padlock for his pink-clad companion.

Remy smiled up at the man before him. "That girl did a really good job when she patched you up, yes'siree. She was all scared you wouldn't make it because you had blacked out right there on the dock. You went limp in some of the shipmates' hands and nearly fell into the water. We got you in here alright, but you had started to break out into a cold sweat from that darn foot of yours."

Sephiroth looked down at his foot, suddenly remembering he had broken it on a protruding tree root while running through the forest. The pain had at first been bearable, if that, but it had soon turned to torture.

"But the girl had us set you here and she pulled this wicked green light from nowhere, cooler than any spell from materia I've ever seen, and fixed you right up, that she did. It was so cool!"

Now agitated over the boy's constant talking, and the fact that the chocobo named Ella had started to rub her feathery face against his again, Sephiroth let out a terribly large sigh, hoping to make a point.

The boy, however, continued to talk.

"After she healed you up, she sat with you for a while to make sure you were okay. Some of the men came down, though, and invited her up to the deck to watch the sunset. I can only guess they took a quick fancy to her, being so pretty and all, but she didn't seem to notice and went along only after she asked me to look after you for a bit while she grabbed a bit of fresh air.

Sephiroth searched his pockets for the small notebook that was his only other means of communication, seeing as how the boy before him wasn't reading any of his open body signals.

"Hey, you know I don't think we were got your names. You remind me of someone, though. I'm not sure who, but I've heard all these crazy stories about him. I don't know if they're true or not, because I've heard a whole bunch of stories that don't sound like they could ever be real, but you know what I mean, right?"

Sephiroth fought the urge to roll his eyes and sigh heavily again.

"I don't think you'd be him, though. He did some crazy things. I heard he-"

Sephiroth forced his notebook into the hands of the youth, rolling his eyes only when he was certain the boy wouldn't look up and catch him.

"Oh, the girl is just upstairs," Remy replied to the scribbled question of _'where did the girl go?' _Sephiroth took a deep breath, taking leave of the boy and the bird that had taken a liking to him. The feathered beast let out a soft coo of sadness as she watched Sephiroth go.

The rest of the ship was large, but Sephiroth found his way to the deck easily enough. He had, after all, been on many other ships before. Soft twilight and the flames of low-hanging lamps lit the deck with an almost ethereal glow. The horizon reflected off of the calm sea, sparkling and shimmering for what seemed like miles, making a thin line where the earth met the warm hues of they sky. He saw Aerith at the bow of the ship, the gentle breeze of the sea making the hair around her face dance.

He stood behind her, allowing her peace and personal space. He looked, instead, past her. The sea was magnificent.

Inhaling heavily, the general let out a sigh.

Aerith turned around and she greeted him with a gentle smile. "Feeling better, I take it?"

Sephiroth nodded, looking to the foot she had healed up. He pulled his notebook and pen from his pocket.

'Did you really do this?'

Aerith tilted her head a bit, still smiling. "Of course I did," she answered. "I'm an awful fighter because I'm such a weakling, but I've always had a knack for healing people."

Sephiroth furrowed his brow. He wanted to inform her that she wasn't weak, but somehow, his fingers wrote something else for her to read.

'Thank you- it doesn't hurt at all.'

Again, she smiled at him. "I was scared you wouldn't be able to use it again. For such a small fall, you really seemed to hurt it."

Sephiroth shrugged slightly, unsure of what else to say to her. The only reason he had sought after her was to thank her. Seeing if she was alright was on his mind as well, of course, but the idea wasn't as prominent as showing his gratitude toward her first and foremost.

'Where is the ship headed?'

Aerith bit her lip, trying to remember. "This ship is going way up north to carry supplies to Bone Village, but the captain said he'll drop us of on the shores outside of Midgar instead. He can't take us that far north because he'll be picking up passengers along the way, and since they are paying, he's kicking us off." She giggled slightly. "Is that okay with you?"

Again, Sephiroth shrugged. Who was he to disagree with the captain of a ship who had let them aboard free of charge? He was beginning to enjoy the fact that Aerith liked to make friends with everyone; it sure seemed to pay off.

'How long until we arrive?'

It was Aerith's turn to shrug. "A few more days, I suppose. Four tops." Shyly, she smiled, looking back to the sea. "You know, the entire time we were in the village, I never once thought about where it was we were. Turns out it was Mideel. That's where the lifestream surfaced a few years ago, so that's where we ended up- it was the easiest place for the planet to give us life."

Sephiroth waited in silence for Aerith to continue, somehow knowing she was going to.

"Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to travel there. It never once occurred to me while we were there that it was Mideel. I mean, even the seasons were different!" She let out a small laugh. "February and warm enough to wear jeans and a t-shirt; it didn't seem strange to me at all, because I had almost forgotten what seasons were like."

Puzzled, Sephiroth tilted his head. When Aerith turned to him, he could tell that she read his expression right away, for she began to laugh.

"I'm sorry; it was a little different when you died than when I died."

Sephiroth remained motionless. Not once since they had come back had she mentioned death. The muscles in his back tightened as he waited for her to continue.

"When you died, it seemed as though only a few moments had passed." Aerith paused and bit her lip. "That's what Hell is like, really. There is nothing; no time, and no concept of it; no scenery; no life. When I died, I was allowed into the Promised Land."

She paused, letting her gaze flow back to the waves.

"I hated it. There was life everywhere, and so much of it I felt like I was suffocating. I had _some_ concept of time there, though two years felt like an eternity, hence why I was so shocked when I found out that only a few years had passed since our deaths. I didn't belong there, that's all."

Curiously, Sephiroth scribbled on his notepad. 'Why not? You're Cetra, aren't you?"

Hesitantly, Aerith let her lips curl into a small smile. "You forget, Sephiroth; I am only half Cetra. The human side of me ached and burned to return to the lifestream so I could return to the planet. I don't think I could have ever been happy there. Every moment I was in the Promised Land, I felt as though there was some great hole in my heart. I felt so incredibly alone, even in the company of my ancestors."

Sephiroth heaved a heavy sigh.

He knew of what she spoke, or, at least, the aching and loneliness part. Even when he had power, he felt as though nothing could clog the gaping hole in his chest. He could have been surrounded by the most expensive things on the planet, basking in the company of beautiful women and delicious food, yet the fissure in his heart only seemed to grow. Without knowing it, Sephiroth had placed a hand over his heart.

He watched Aerith smile. "You feel it too, then?"

Unsure, he nodded once.

"I wonder what it could be…"

So did he.


	16. Kindness

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 16: Kindness

Sephiroth watched as Aerith gleefully waved her hands above her head, shouting her farewells to the crew of the ship as it sailed further into the distance. "You be good now, Remy, and take care of those chocobos!"

Sephiroth fought the urge to sigh heavily. Passage by ship wasn't his all time favorite way to travel, but under the circumstances he had been thrust into, he had little other choice than to suck up his sea weariness and deal with it, save for throwing himself overboard, of course, and that simply wouldn't do. It wasn't that the sea bored him; the wine-dark waves crashing upon the bow and stern of the ship were magnificent, especially at dusk and dawn. What wore his nerves, however, was the constant tossing and turning of the boat. And, after three days of seeing the same gruff faces, hearing the clinging and churning of the engine below, and listening to the same cry of the sea birds overhead, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. Life back in Mideel in their tiny little cottage had been relaxing; life at sea, even for only three days, was repulsive.

Sephiroth watched as Aerith turned to face him. Bright smile still present on her visage, she let out a short, content sigh. "Do you think we can get to Midgar before sunset?"

At least she didn't waste much time. Placing a hand over his eyes to shade out the sun, Sephiroth looked up and down the coast. The sun, though shining brightly, offered little warmth. While the southern hemisphere of the globe was pleasant in the month of February, the same month in the northern half of the earth was anything but. Sephiroth watched as the breath that escaped his lips turned to steam before him. Turing on his heel, he faced the wide open expanse of meadow that stretched out before him. A small dark spot could be seen on the horizon.

With his other hand, he pointed forward, toward the south east, toward what he knew to be the polluted city of Midgar. Pulling his notebook out of his pocket, he scribbled a message for his companion to read.

'Are you certain it is Midgar you wish to travel to?'

Without hesitation, she nodded. "I want to stop by my house and see if my mom is home."

Sephiroth took a step back in surprise. He sure hadn't seen that coming.

'Your mother?' he scribbled.

"Yes," she replied smiling at him as if she hadn't taken note of his obvious surprise. "I wish to see my church as well, and see if Fiel and Zella have kept it nice for me while I've been gone, like they promised they would."

Sephiroth furrowed his brow. Who were Fiel and Zella, and what did they have to do with a church?

Apparently having read his facial expression, Aerith let out a small laugh. "If you'd like, I can tell you all about where I grew up, but how about on the way to Midgar? It's cold out here and I don't want to be in the open once night hits."

At least she was practical. Dark would mean cold, and neither of the pair was dressed particularly warm, having only just sailed from the subtropics. So, in response, he nodded and began to walk.

For being so slight in stature, Aerith was quite the trooper. Or at least Sephiroth thought so. She wouldn't have done well in soldier for her lack of physical strength was obvious, hence why monsters kept attacking her in battle first, but she didn't complain. Instead, she talked to him, teaching him of the life she had led before she had set out with Cloud to save the planet.

"Fiel and Zella are brother and sister, Fiel being the boy and Zella being the girl, whom I used to baby sit on the weekends for extra Gil. Their mother was a cook in a small restaurant in Wall Market, and her husband had to work on the weekends as well, so I would bring Fiel and Zella over to my place to play in the garden, or to the church to help me take care of my flowers."

The last statement caught Sephiroth's interest; they said you couldn't grow plants in Midgar.

Aerith continued. "I don't know what it is, but the flowers always grew for me. My house is probably the only clean place in Midgar, really, so I used to invite all of the neighborhood kids over to play in the garden when I was little."

She paused, sighing heavily. "But none of them ever came over. They all thought I was weird. I don't know why Fi and Zel took such a liking to me, though. I think the only reason their mother used to let me baby sit was because I was the only teenaged girl in Sector 5 not to have kids of my own."

Sephiroth cleared his throat, highly uncomfortable over the direction the conversation was taking. Conversely, Aerith kept talking as if she had heard nothing.

"I didn't have many friends growing up," she continued, stumbling over a small pile of stones in the grass. She righted herself and brushed a stray strand of grass from her leg. "Because of the fact that everyone thought I was weird, I never dated much, either. I did have one boyfriend a few years back though. Maybe you knew him; he was, after all, in soldier." She paused and smiled up at him. "His name was Zax."

Sephiroth froze, rooted to the ground.

He guessed she must have read the expression on her face, for her eyes lit up slightly. "I take it you do know him, then."

For no particular reason, Sephiroth had taken a fond liking to the loud-mouthed and ever dreaming boy he had trained and battled with those many yeas ago. Where other soldiers considered their leading officer to be coldhearted and, for lack of a better term, an all-around bastard, Zax tried his best to melt the sheet of ice that Sephiroth had placed around his person. One night, on shore leave, Zax had taken his superior officer to the bar, and glass after glass was upended and the rest, though a little fuzzy in Sephiroth's mind, was history. After that, Zax had become as close to a friend as Sephiroth would like to admit.

'Yes, I knew him.'

He wrote as he walked, trying not to look at the flower girl whom walked beside him.

"Was he always such a big goof ball?"

A small smile tugged at Sephiroth lips.

'Yes.'

Zax had always been a joker. Playing pranks on other soldiers, like hiding their uniforms, or even replacing the ones in another soldier's locker with female uniforms, was what he did best. In the end, though, Zax had always given himself away; after each prank he would wear a large grin he seemed incapable of hiding, informing the world it was he who committed whatever prank had been pulled.

"Were you two friends?"

Sephiroth pondered this. He knew the young boy was a good soldier and always listened to orders, but when at ease, Zax seemed to transform from a top notch soldier to relaxed, easy-going young man.

'I am not sure, really.'

Truthfully, it was the best answer Sephiroth could offer. Zax, while successful in warming Sephiroth's cold outer shell, though just a bit, was friendly to everyone. He was the type of man who had many acquaintances and very few close friends. He had considered Zax the closest thing to a friend he had, but hadn't the slightest idea what he was to the fellow soldier.

Sephiroth couldn't find it in himself to tell Aerith that Zax was most likely dead. Though his memories were fuzzy, Sephiroth couldn't forget the face of his once-friend as he raised his sword and slashed him when Zax wouldn't get out of the way in the reactor. Jenova had compelled him to do it, for when he was closest her magic worked the strongest, but, regardless of who had made him, it was Sephiroth's hands that had held the sword.

Something heavy fell to the pit of Sephiroth's stomach. He tried to swallow, but found his throat to dry to even attempt to. He didn't much like the feeling, whatever it was.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sephiroth watched Aerith bring her tiny hands in front of her mouth, cup them over the rosy lips, then blow. She suppressed a shiver, but the general could see the goose bumps that ran rampant up and down her arms. She was cold.

Sephiroth did the only thing he could thing of; he placed his notebook and his pen inside of his pocket, pulled his shirt over the top of his head, and tossed it to the young girl next to him.

Aerith, apparently taken by surprise, stumbled backwards a few steps. She looked to the article of clothing she had been given, then to the general. "I can't take this- you'll freeze!"

Her protests were in vain, for the general was quite stubborn. He pulled his only means of communication from his pocket one more and scribbled a message for her.

'I have been in places far colder than this with much less to keep me warm. This is nothing, albeit a little chilly.'

Aerith looked again to the wad of cloth in her hand. A shy smile slowly spread across her face, and she looked up to meet the eyes of the man whom she traveled with. "Thank you. It's very kind of you." She pulled the shirt over her head.

It was, Sephiroth noticed, extremely large on her. He knew himself to not be all that large of a man, but was Aerith truly so tiny? He marveled how something so tiny could carry such a gigantic spirit, not to mention heart.

She had called him kind. Sephiroth was glad her back was turned to him as they continued to walk toward the setting sun, least she would see the hint of a smile that graced his face.


	17. Ease

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 17: Ease

Midgar, if it were at all possible, had flown right past downtrodden and straight into disgusting with not even so much as a foot on the brakes. As Sephiroth and his petite companion climbed over towering scrap heaps and looming mountains of rubble, the platinum-haired man made several mental notes, one among them being to never lose sight of Aerith within the city, not even within the time span it took for him to blink. Last time he had been in Midgar, it had been far from enjoyable. Now, however, the streets were crowded with trash and unwashed people hurrying and scurrying about the streets in no particular order to no particular destination.

Once they had reached the outskirts of the city, Aerith had removed the shirt he had lent her, though he refused to take it back at first. With a small smile she had reassured him that it was far warmer in the city, and with a face as innocent and trusting as hers, the general felt his stubbornness give way for a mere fraction of a second as he pulled his shirt back over his head and followed her inside.

He knew that Midgar had never been the cleanest of cities, but it had become far worse than a city of hopeless people; it had transformed into a thriving trash pile.

"This place has changed so much," Aerith remarked while looking around once they had crossed the last scrap pile. Her tone, however, was far from anything that even resembled dislike or, for that matter, even distaste. It was almost as if she didn't notice how much worse it had become.

Sephiroth stayed close to her. He suspected Aerith knew it was for protection, as he had never followed her so willingly close before, but she didn't speak of the matter and instead started off in a direction she seemed familiar with. Sephiroth followed close-suit, resting his hand on the hilt of the katana that swung at his side.

"This is Sector 2." She spoke as though only to herself. "That means we'll need to board the evening train to get to Sector 5."

He was glad that she knew where she was going, for he was lost. The streets hummed with people coming home from work, each and every footstep echoing off the high walls of the slums.

The outside, however, was nothing compared to the interior of the train. The compartment was overcrowded, the train didn't move nearly fast enough, and it smelled terribly of rotten eggs and the body odor.

To think; this was her home. An almost painful-like feeling gripped Sephiroth's stomach. For a moment he thought it to be the stink of the homeless man he stood against in the crowded train compartment, but when the feeling spread to other parts of his body he knew otherwise.

Was this what pity felt like?

How had such an innocent flower been raised in such a disgusting place? Sephiroth shuddered to think of what her childhood had really been like. How, by all the standards of men, had she turned out so innocent when raised in such a terrible place?

The lurching of the train, however, as it stopped at the Sector 5 platform brought him back to reality. Just like before, he stayed close to Aerith.

A short distance away from the train station, Aerith began to converse with the man she walked with, much like she had before they entered the city. "Until we got off the train, I had completely forgotten about the ID checks they used to have in place. I guess Midgar has finally gone to the dogs, not that it was any better before."

Sephiroth hadn't recalled the ID checks on the train, for his superiority in the Shinra military allowed him to overlook such simple things. He, however, took her word for it.

"Look!" Aerith lifted her arm and pointed in front of them. "There is my church."

If ever the dingy, desecrated building before them had been a church, Sephiroth was the Tooth Moogle. Bricks were scattered everywhere, there was a gaping hole in the roof, the stained glass windows were all broken, the wood looked rotted, and the paint looked as though it was peeling off from the sheer pollution of the air.

"It's not much, but this is where I used to spend most of my free time."

Aerith hadn't turned around to measure the general's reaction, for had she, she most likely would have laughed out loud. Sephiroth was glad for this, for his eyes were roughly the side of a chocobo's eyes; large, gleaming, though his were full of ghastly awe mixed with repulsion. His moth hung agape. He knew the slums to have been difficult on all those dwelling in them. This building, however, was, to say the least, the pits.

As if it were nothing more than a common building, Aerith pushed the door of the church open and walked inside. Sephiroth, once sure his mouth was shut and his eyes were back to their normal size, followed her through the dingy doorway.

What he saw took his breath away.

The church, while on the outside was disgusting, was absolutely breathtaking on the inside. A suspicious hole in the ceiling allowed a stray ray of sunlight filter into the church, lighting all of the walls with an almost ethereal glow. Few of the pews had survived the hardness of life in the slums, but the ones that had stood proud and tall, offering a place to sit for all those whose feet were weary. At the end of the isle was a clearing composed solely of green grass and bright, blooming flowers peeping up through the hole in the floor.

Sephiroth doubted there was a more beautiful place on earth.

Two children poked their heads out from behind one of the pews. Sephiroth turned to look at them. Were these the two children Aerith spoke of on their way to Midgar?

His suspicions were proved correct when the two youngsters crawled over the bench and ran at Aerith, arms wide, smiles wider.

"Fiel, Zella! Oh, I've missed you guys so much!" Aerith bent on her knees and scooped the two children into her arms, hugging both of them and kissing each one on their forehead in turn.

The boy, obviously the elder brother, spoke up after being let free of Aerith's grasp. "I knew you would come back! We kept the flowers nice and pretty for you while you were away."

Aerith looked over the boy's shoulder and to the clearing. "You sure did!"

The smaller child, Zella, tugged on her brother's sleeve. The boy looked to his sister, furrowed his brow, and then smiled. "Zella finally learned how to make flower crowns!"

Aerith smiled at the small girl and placed her hand on the child's cheek. "Did you now?"

Zella nodded. Her eyes, however, turned to look at Sephiroth who stood at the end of the isle. She held out her small hand and pointed at the silver-haired stranger in their church.

Aerith's eyes followed the child's stare. She smiled warmly at Sephiroth, and then turned back to the children. "It's okay guys, he's my friend." Placing a hand on Zella's head, her smile turned almost sad. "Zella, he's just like you- he has no voice."

Sephiroth was taken aback by the statement. The child was mute?

The little girl smiled as she walked up to him. Uncertain, Sephiroth took a tentative step backwards. Zella, however, was not intimidated, despite how he loomed over her. Reaching out a small hand, the girl took the general's hand in her own and led him to the flower patch. She sat down, pulling him down with her.

He sat amidst the flowers, cross-legged and utterly at a loss as of what to do. Curiously, he watched as the little girl at his side picked a few of the flowers and began to tie them gently together. It was only a matter of minutes before she had finished a bright ring of flowers.

Carefully she stood and walked behind Sephiroth. Standing on her tiptoes, despite the fact that he was sitting, she reached up and placed the flower crown upon his head. Then, once the ornament was in place, Zella wrapped her arms around his neck, hugged him, and pressed her tiny lips against his cheek.

Sephiroth had never felt sillier in his life.

He had also never felt more at peace.


	18. Vow

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 18: Vow

The comforter in which his body rested under was too scratchy, the mattress he laid atop was too lumpy, the sheets he laid between had little holes here and there, and the pillow he rested his head against was too soft, yet the general had never fallen asleep faster and rested deeper in his entire life.

Aerith told him that the room he had been granted was her mother's room, for when they had entered the house she was nowhere to be seen. Sephiroth was at first alarmed. What if her mother were to come home and find a strange man in her bed? The flower girl had laughed at his fear and assured him that her mother was out of town. She reminisced, informing the general that she had completely forgotten Elmyra had taken a small child, Barett's daughter Marlene, to the small town of Kalm before Aerith had left Midgar in the times before. Recalling how her mother had always wanted to be free of the slums, Aerith was sure she had decided to stay in Kalm, where the Shinra hadn't taken over and polluted the city.

It was early morning before the general was roused from his deep sleep by the sound of tiny footsteps traveling down wooden stairs. It was so early, in fact, the sun had yet to rise, though the house remained faintly lit due to the neon street signs that littered the area just outside Aerith's house.

Rolling upon his side, Sephiroth shifted his weight and prepared to enter sleep again. He, however, opened his eyes when he heard the front door open and close as though someone was trying very hard not to be heard. Knowing he wouldn't get back to sleep with Aerith outside of the house, Sephiroth groggily sat up and pushed the covers of the bed away, setting his feet on the cool wooden floor. Wishing he had the vocal ability to growl, he rubbed his eyes as he groped the floor, searching impatiently for his boots.

What was that infernal girl doing out of bed in the middle of the night? Didn't she know that this was Midgar? _Midgar! _Of all the places in the world she chooses to have a late-night stroll, she decides Midgar. Sephiroth fought the urge to strangle his pillow. Deciding that tightly wrapping his hands around his pillow and attempting to relieve it of its fluffiness was the least productive thing to do, Sephiroth stuffed his feet in his cold boots, stifled his annoyance, and headed for the door.

'Trust her to check her garden in the middle of the night.' Sephiroth, obviously annoyed, folded his arms as he stood in the doorway of Aerith's slum house, watching her weave her way through the small garden.

She stopped near the end, her back still turned to him, then knelt down to her knees, nearly collapsing to the earth. Her shoulders went slack, her arms fell to her sides, and she hung her head.

Sephiroth was at her side in an instant.

He reached his hand out to grab her shoulders, preparing to turn her around and make sure she was alright, but she lifted her head when he neared her. Surprised, Sephiroth stopped only a few paces short, his hand still hovering in midair, fingers spread as if he were reaching to save something precious.

"I didn't want to wake you up, that's why I went outside." Her voice was cold and distant.

He waited, still frozen.

"I've always been alone, you know that? Growing up I never had any friends because everyone thought I was weird."

Sephiroth flexed his fingers, uncertain of what to do.

"I always had one reliable friend, though, who never thought I was weird." Aerith's voice was slowly cracking, despite the fact that Sephiroth could hear her effort to hide her emotions.

Slowly, she turned to face him. Her eyes were swollen, and hot, silent tears had burned trails of glistening moisture down her porcelain cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled and her emerald irises shimmered with threats to spill more precious tears when her eyes met his.

"I can't hear it anymore. It's abandoned me."

Sephiroth watched as she bit her lip, trying to hold her tears back from him. Aerith lowered her head after several drawn out moments of eye contact, her bangs shielding her glistening eyes from him.

What, in the name of everything as round, red, and precious as summon materia, was she talking about? Couldn't hear what? Who had abandoned her?

Slowly easing up, Sephiroth dug into his pocket for his notebook. Upon further inspection of his pants, he realized that he had left it on the small bed stand next to where he had been sleeping. Curses.

"The planet!" she cried, frantically looking up to him and searching his eyes. "I could hear it back in Mideel! I could hear it, even thought it was faint! But now I can't hear it at all!"

Hunching over, Aerith buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Sephiroth was at a complete loss.

He hadn't the slightest idea she could hear the planet. Was that what it meant to be a true Cetra? What did the planet say? Was it a single entity, or was it merely the souls of the departed speaking as one? Could she, then, talk to the dead?

If there was one thing Sephiroth couldn't stand, it was ignorance regarding things that held important places within his life. The frail flower girl who knelt before him, spilling her tears on the earth at his feet, however much he didn't like to admit it, was important to him, but he didn't know a damn thing about her. Believing that attempting to comfort her was the only available option at hand, Sephiroth slowly lowered himself to his knees and sat before her.

Sighing heavily, the general placed his hand on Aerith's tiny shoulder.

Slowly, she pulled her face from her hands. Her eyes were puffy and red, swollen with sadness and fear, and she looked up at him as would a lost child. Sucking in a deep breath, Sephiroth tried his best to smile at her. What was accomplished, however, was a small tug at the corner of his mouth and a small twitch of his left eye. Smiling, it seemed, was something he was unaccustomed to, to say the least.

Aerith's eyes sparkled with uncertainty for a sheer fraction of a second, but when she realized that he was attempting to comfort her, she returned his smile with a warm and gentle one of her own. He had seen her smile many times before, but never with such a look in her eyes. Reaching her arms out in front of herself, Aerith dove at him.

Not expecting such a show of emotion from the flower girl before him, Sephiroth fell backwards, one hand circling around Aerith's back to support her, the other falling behind him to catch his fall, despite the fact that he was already sitting down. Burying her face in his chest and curling up like a frightened animal, Aerith began to sob into the chest of the great general.

Sephiroth had been at wit's end before. Now, he was completely dumbstruck.

By placing his hand on Aerith's shoulder, he realized that he had sealed some sort of pact with her; you may be without the planet, but I am, at the very least, here for you. Sephiroth had known this before he had reached out to touch her. He hadn't, however, anticipated such a reaction.

Her arms pressed against this chest, she let her tears fall into his shirt. They seeped into the thin fabric as if it could soak up her fears and leave her nothing but happiness. Such was not the case, however, and Aerith grabbed a handful of the cotton and sobbed harder, unable to hold any of her heart in for a moment longer.

Still rather dumbstruck, but having partially returned to reality, Sephiroth shifted to a more comfortable position and merely let Aerith weep. If there was one thing he knew about women, it was never to interrupt them when they were having a good cry. He let out a small sigh and began running his hand up and down her back in what he hoped was comforting.

Thinking back to earlier that day, Sephiroth reminisced over the kiss the child, Zella, had given him. It had been awkward, but it had, none the less, made him feel content. Hoping what he was doing was the right thing, Sephiroth ran his hand up Aerith's back until it came to rest on her head. Slowly, she raised her tear stricken eyes to gaze up at him.

Leaning forward, Sephiroth lightly pressed his lips to Aerith's forehead. His eyes spoke the words he was otherwise incapable of conveying. 'Everything will be alright.'

Aerith had stopped crying long enough to look confused, which had struck Sephiroth as a good thing. The fact that he had actually succeeded in surprising her, in turn, had surprised him. He completely and unintentionally tried at another smile, though because it wasn't forced it wasn't nearly as awkward or twitchy.

She sobbed harder, and buried her face, once again, into his chest.

As he sat with the flower girl pressed snugly against his chest, Sephiroth began to contemplate things he had never bothered to pay attention to; like just how tiny Aerith really was. He had always known her to be small and delicate, but when she was pressed against him and his hand on her back, he began to realize how fragile she truly was. He was entranced with the fact that his hand covered such a large potion of her back. The fingers that dug into his shirt, though as iron-like as they could seem at times, were thin and reminded him of the claws of a newborn chocobo, and her wrists seemed as slight and frail as paper. He marveled over how easily she could break, yet how sturdy she tried to be.

Sephiroth came to realize something; Aerith was as delicate as the flowers she looked after.

When her breath began to come in short gasps, she coughed and tried to calm herself. She stilled until the only sign she remained alive was the slow rise and fall of her chest. Sephiroth shifted, having long lost feeling in the arm that was supporting his and Aerith's weight. He had hoped the movement would allow Aerith to realize that he was growing uncomfortable, but when she didn't move, he grew curious. Adjusting his head only slightly, Sephiroth noticed Aerith's eyes were closed and her expression relaxed; she had fallen asleep.

Hoping, for the love of materia, that she didn't wake, Sephiroth maneuvered into a position that allowed him to scoop Aerith up into his arms. A large surge of various emotions pulsed through his body as he stood with Aerith in his arms. He shouldn't touch her- it wasn't right of him. He was a sinner, and she was an angel. Such tainted flesh as his surely wasn't fit to even look upon the flower girl. But when she shifted in his arms and made a soft cooing noise, tightening her grip on his shirt for a sheer instant of time, Sephiroth felt a strange sensation course through his veins and warm his body. He suddenly felt that, even if for just an instant, everything was right with the world.

Opening the front door of Aerith's house proved to be less of a chore than he had originally anticipated, what with the body of the flower girl resting snugly in his arms and all. As truth would have it, she was so light in his hands that Sephiroth was worried he was holding her too tightly.

He entered her room, the first time he had seen it since they arrived. Fond childhood memories littered the walls and the top of her dresser and desk. Small chocobo plush figures of various colors lined the shelf above her bed. Her comforter was white and trimmed with lace, and her walls were dusted with the honey-light glow of the moon. Pictures signed with Aerith's small, neatly-dotted handwriting invading the left-most bottom corner were plastered all over the wall; her church, smiling faces of people who lived in the slum, children playing with broken toys who looked as though they were having more fun than children with toys that properly worked, the train station, and, most present of all, flowers of every shape, size, and color.

Once he had tucked Aerith safely into the covers, he silently strolled to the wall and began to look through the pictures. One in particular caught his eyes.

It was of Zax.

Judging by his pose, chopsticks hanging from his mouth and by his classical 'what?' expression, Aerith had captured him completely unprepared.

Slowly, Sephiroth pulled his eyes from the picture on the wall and let them rest upon the sleeping flower girl in the bed at his feet. Silently, despite the fact that nothing could ever hold him to it, he made a vow.

'I'll never hurt you again, nor the ones you hold close. I promise.'


	19. Smile

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 19: Smile

Though the night before was certainly the most heavy thought residing within his mind, Sephiroth would be damned before he brought it up prior to the flower girl in conversation. When the dark was settled over the world, and her warm tears staining her face, Sephiroth felt as though what he had done was the right thing. Now that light had brightened the world, however, he felt silly; more so than when Zella had placed the flower crown upon his head, though far less content.

Aerith had suggested they go out to eat breakfast, as nothing in the house would have kept for so long. Sephiroth agreed, of course, but noticed that Aerith refused to make eye-contact with him for a full hour. This both frustrated and pleased him, for he too wasn't yet comfortable with making eye-contact with the flower girl, though he saw her look at him through the corner of her eyes.

He hated it.

Sephiroth had figured that at some particular point in time he would have become used to awkward situations involving Aerith. The more time he spent with her, however, the more new emotions made themselves present within his mind and body. Unwillingly reacting to a situation was still not something he was completely comfortable with.

But, that was life, no matter how slowly it was going to take both body and mind to adapt.

"I suppose we shouldn't stay here too long," Aerith mused on their walk back to sector five. The small bag of food swayed in her hands. She looked toward what would be the sky were it not blocked out.

Sephiroth pulled out his notebook, something he had become accustomed to, and scribbled his question.

'Why?'

Looking rueful, Aerith let out a sigh. "Midgar is no place to live, and if we can help it I don't want to stay here much longer than we have to. It might once have been my home, but living back in Mideel made me realize how awful it is just to be here. That, and neither of us would be able to find jobs right away, so money would be a major issue. We collected quite a bit of Gil from those monsters back on the plains, but it wouldn't last us more than week here."

'Very well then, we will set off in the morning.'

Aerith smiled at him, placing her hands behind her head. "You know, when I was little I always wanted to travel the world, to get out of this dingy town and see what life was really like. This is going to be exciting!"

Sephiroth watched as she skipped a few paces ahead of him, bright smile on her face. She turned around and smiled at him, waiting for him to close the small distance she had created with her exuberance.

'What about before?'

The question caught her a little off guard, and it took a moment for her to prepare an answer. "Before, when I was with Cloud, I really wasn't enjoying very much of the scenery. Between you and me, I was scared witless that the world could be such a big place! Now that I am more familiar with the land I don't think it will be so bad."

He was pleased she would be enjoying herself, though a little troubled by it as well. The world, for the most part, was not a restful place. War and conflict ruled the land, not peace and serenity. Nature was law, but man was defiant. He hoped she understood that, for the last thing Sephiroth wanted was for Aerith to be troubled by what they would come across on their journey.

"Should we be getting supplies then?"

Her voice ripped him out of his train of thought and placed him back into reality. It was a moment before he understood her question. He nodded.

That night, after spending the majority of the day shopping and most of the evening with the children in the church, Aerith and Sephiroth arrived back at home. Sephiroth was pleased by how their normal routine was easily transferred from the cabin back in Mideel to Aerith's home in the slum; she prepared dinner, and he cleaned up afterward.

After their stomachs were full and the dishes had been neatly stacked away in their dusty cupboards, the two spread their supplies upon the kitchen table and surveyed what they had bought; a tent, several hi-potions, four ethers, six tranquilizers, as well as six hypers, an extra healing, fire, lightning, and earth materia, two sleeping bags, and enough food and water to last the better part of a week. Needless to say, they were out of money.

"I think I have just the thing for this stuff," Aerith mused, placing her hand on the side of her face as she lost herself in thought. "But where would it be?"

Sephiroth watched as she spun on her heel and headed for the closet, digging through the topmost shelf. A cascade of junk fell from the shelf, toppling Aerith over, but she recovered before the general could rush to her side, two tattered bags in her hand.

"It's not much," she shrugged, looking down at what she held. "But it will get us by."

Sephiroth gave most of the small supplies to Aerith and decided to carry the heavier objects himself. Despite her protests, Sephiroth stood firm in his decision and gave her no reason for being so stubborn. Deep down, however, he merely didn't want Aerith carrying anything that might wear her down while they walked. And, of course, Aerith was the healer in their small party- it would be better if she carried the majority of items in case she ran out of stamina to cast magic. Even if she was knocked out in combat, there was hardly a monster that posed a threat to the general.

To Sephiroth's surprise, however, Aerith narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "I'm not as weak as you think I am."

Sephiroth shook his head, letting out a heavy breath, and pulled the notebook from his pocket.

'I do not think you to be weak; I am doing it to be a gentleman.'

He felt very silly after writing it, but it was either feel silly or have Aerith cross with him.

Her expression lightened considerably, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

After everything was secure in the bag, Sephiroth and Aerith made their way up the small staircase. Aerith paused outside her bedroom door, waiting for the general to reach for the knob of his own. He paused, though he didn't look at her, knowing she had something to say to him as she always did.

She took a deep breath. "Thank you, Sephiroth."

Not being her usual before bed comment, he looked up at her, surprised. She smiled at his expression, tilting her head to one side. "And, of course, I forgive you."

Aerith closed the door to her room, disappearing inside.

Sephiroth stood in the door way, confused.

It was the first time she had ever told him that she forgave him with a smile on her face.


	20. Thunder

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 20: Thunder

They were out of Midgar just after the sun rose the next morning. Aerith, thinking practically, had brought along with her a few extra sweaters and blankets for the cold weather. Luckily, the day proved to be warm enough not to need much covering aside from the clothes they wore.

The day was calm, and Midgar became nothing more than an eyesore on the horizon after only a few hours. The expanse of the field, however, proved very large and Sephiroth was troubled over the aspect of reaching Kalm before night set in and real cold nipped at them.

Aerith, conversely, seemed happy enough to do nothing but hum a small tune as they marched across the field. It was nearly the lunch hour when she requested to stop and take a break, and Sephiroth wasn't one to argue with her; she carried much of their food, and he was beginning to become hungry.

She produced two sandwiches from her pack, handing one to the general while taking a large bite of her own. When she had swallowed the first bite, she tilted her head and looked to the sky. "Where should we go?" Aerith sighed, taking another large bite of her sandwich.

Sephiroth shrugged, pulling his canteen from his belt and taking a swig from the round opening, hoping the sandwich would wash down easily enough. The bread was slightly stiff, it was slathered in mayonnaise, and there was a definite lack of tomato, but Sephiroth was hungry and felt it would be best not to complain. He had been surprised their measly amount of gil had allowed them as much food as they fit in their packs.

The general watched as Aerith took yet another bite of her sandwich, staring pensively at the sky. "Well," she finally spoke. "I suppose for now we had better head for Kalm, or else night will take care of us for sure."

Nodding once, Sephiroth brushed a few clumps of dirt off of his pants. Swallowing the last bit of his sandwich, he offered Aerith a drink off of his canteen. She swallowed the last of her own meal and took a large gulp of water, smiling as she handed the canteen back to the general.

Adjusting the straps on his pack, Sephiroth looked to the sky. A narrow strip of dark rose on the horizon, but he decided not to worry the flower girl over what he determined not to be a problem. The small strip of a storm he saw was too far away to be upon them before nightfall, and the wind was blowing in the opposite direction.

"Well we can't make it to the Chocobo Ranch by nightfall, which I am certain of, so I guess we should spend the night in Kalm. What do you think?" Aerith turned around and put her hands on her head, walking backwards and watching Sephiroth with a bright look upon her face.

He merely shrugged, indicating that whatever path of action she chose was fine with him.

Aerith smiled and turned around, the sounds of her large boots hitting the earth in a rhythmical thumping noise that relaxed the general.

Not long ago, the sound of someone dragging their feet when they walked would have driven Sephiroth up the wall. Aerith's boots, however, were too large for her feet, and while he understood the fact that she didn't purposely mean to make such a clamor when she walked, he also had become quite accustomed to it during the time they had spent together.

Always one to give orders, Sephiroth also found it relaxing for someone else to tell him where they were going for a change. Aerith didn't demand he follow her, or even ask, but Sephiroth, though he would never admit to it, had grown fond of her in the past month. She provided the answers to questions he never thought he would ask in a million years; which side of the plate does a spoon go on; how do you properly bake a cake; what was the name of the scents in the soap they carried; why do the fireflies seek one another in the night?

Slowly his mind wandered to why, exactly, they were traveling. It all boiled down to Cloud, and the youth's inability to keep his nose out of the business of others.

As harsh of a criticism as it was, Sephiroth felt he was completely justified in thinking such. Were it not for Cloud sticking his nose in the Shinra's business, the blonde would have never come to realize Sephiroth's plan, nor would he had tried to stop the general in the first place, for he wouldn't have known what was going on.

Which, now that Sephiroth looked upon, wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Were it not for Cloud's failure to stifle his curiosity, Sephiroth wouldn't have realized just how good life could be when one was not plagued by an onslaught of mental projections by a creature that all but completely controlled him.

However, because Cloud once again stuck his nose in places it didn't belong, Sephiroth and Aerith had been forced to abandon what little life they had complied while in Mideel and begin on a silly journey to planet-knows where.

That, truly, was the main concern on the mind of Sephiroth; where the devil's name were they going?

He could understand wanting to get away from Cloud, but where would they stay? They wouldn't be able to go back to Mideel for some time, that much was for certain.

An uncommonly cold breeze drifted through the air, pulling Sephiroth back to reality and dropping him into frosty physical body. He watched as Aerith, only a few paces in front of him, suppressed a shudder. Pulling the straps off of his left shoulder, the general pulled a small fleece blanket from within the confines of the musty bag and proceeded to rightly place his pack back upon his shoulder and drape the blanket over Aerith's shoulders.

She turned her head and looked at the blanket, then looked up at him. "Thanks." She smiled brightly at him then turned to focus on the path in front of her feet.

Sephiroth felt his face soften as a small, genuine smile crept to the corners of his mouth. He could only assume he looked silly, thus he was pleased when Aerith hadn't turned around.

Kalm was a bright spot in the distance, spreading over a small portion of the horizon. Far off into the distance, a large roll of thunder shook the sky and echoed for miles.


	21. Festival

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 21: Festival

The sound of a happy band playing a joyful tune was what they heard first, upon entering the city. Colored streamers and confetti littered the walls of the buildings and houses, and even the cobblestone streets. People were in the streets dancing, laughing, and having a good time.

It was a very awkward sight for Sephiroth.

"It's a festival!" Aerith excitedly exclaimed, standing on her tip-toes to overlook the heads of several people in front of her. Sephiroth pondered this. Many times had he heard of festivals, but never had he seen one.

Aerith's sudden excitement caught him off-balance. She whirled around, her face bright with joy, and smiled up at him. "Can we stay?"

Sephiroth's eyebrows shot into the air. So used to following Aerith, when she asked him a sincere question he was knocked completely off kilter by her query. He wasn't prepared to answer her, for quite honestly, he didn't care.

Now, it wasn't that he didn't care completely. He didn't care in the sense that if staying would make Aerith happy, then stay they would; but if she wished to leave, he would follow her without question. Either way, he didn't mind.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sephiroth composed himself and hoped that Aerith hadn't seen his mask falter as completely as it had. He was as unaccustomed to random facial expressions as she was to perpetual cold ones, and Sephiroth felt uncomfortable with letting go of the mask he had spent his entire existence perfecting. The last thing he wanted was for someone to read his thoughts based off of his facial expressions; it made him feel weak and vulnerable.

Aerith, however, paid Sephiroth little more heed after he had shrugged, twirling around and looking about. Booths were set up all along the streets. The only time an opening surfaced within the sea of stalls was when a door to someone's house was left unblocked.

Sephiroth watched as Aerith tapped the shoulder of a citizen. "Excuse me, sir, but we're new here- what's with the hullabaloo?"

The man smiled, an almost drunken twinkle in his eye. "This, miss, is the second annual festival of the seasons!"

That made sense- no wonder Sephiroth had never heard of such a festival within Kalm. He and Aerith had been gone when the celebration had first come to; it wasn't any wonder they didn't know about it.

"The festival of the seasons?"

"Aye! You see, we people of Kalm now celebrate the changing of the seasons! Today happens to be the first day of spring. It's not a very long tradition, and it actually started as a festival to celebrate the disappearance of meteor and the new beginning many of us were given. It did, after all, happen on the first day of spring."

Suddenly, Sephiroth's blood went cold. It was enough that he was forced to live with his past, fully aware of all he had done, but to be reminded of it? He unexpectedly felt ill and extremely anti-social.

Stuffing his hand into his pocket, Sephiroth pulled out his notebook, his pen, and good-sized handful of Gil. He forced the money at Aerith, and she took it from him with several questions in her eyes.

Sephiroth was not in the mood to answer a single one of them. He scribbled on his pad, thrust it at her, waiting impatiently for her to read what he had written, then stole back his notebook and headed to the inn, leaving a very bewildered Aerith in his wake. Flustered and frustrated, the notebook's pages fluttered in his hand, his latest note on the topmost page; "It means little to me what you do today- the Gil is yours to do what you wish. I'll meet you at the inn."

Paying for a two-bed room at the inn without a voice turned to be more of a problem than Sephiroth had thought, but once he flashed a large sum of Gil past the man at the front desk, he found things to go much smoother.

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sephiroth carelessly kicked off his boots, allowing them to land where ever it pleased them. Tucking his hands behind his head, he fell backwards onto the bedspread. It smelt of generic laundry detergent. After having his bedspread hung out on a clothesline to dry, soaking up all the scents of the forest, the smell of the cleanser nearly made him sick.

Being back on the road again was nice, yes, but how he missed the simple life he had back in Mideel. He was tired of being reminded of his past, though he knew he could never escape it no matter how far he traveled, how far he ran, or how much time he spent trying not to think of it.

Staring up at the ceiling, a peculiar feeling took hold of Sephiroth's stomach. At first, he was angry at how passive Aerith seemed over the festival. Then, realizing how he had been silly to become so annoyed over something that was his own fault in the first place, he began to feel guilty for treating Aerith as he had.

He rolled over on his side, stuffing his head under a pillow. What has passed has passed, and that's the way it was.

But, sometimes, it would be easier if it weren't so.

Sephiroth marveled at the courage Aerith had, and was appalled at how blind he had been toward it.

While he, the great ex-general of the mighty Shinra army, victor of the Wutai war, and almost-God, tired to forget his past by merely not thinking of it, Aerith went day to day and looked her horrific past in the face. His own shining green eyes and silver hair were a testament to her courage; everyday she looked upon him, and everyday she smiled and told him that she forgave him, despite the fact that he had run her through in blind greed and selfish want.

Physically, he might have been able to easily overpower her, but Sephiroth felt he finally understood why he had failed in his attempt to take over the earth; she was far greater than he could ever hope to be. Though he had taken her life at the tip of a sword in a matter of seconds, she was so powerful that even in death she managed to defeat him.

Yes, it had been Cloud who had dealt the finishing blow to Sephiroth's physical body, but it was Aerith's soul that had summoned holy and finally defeated him.

Sephiroth felt as though he should hate her.

In fact, he had every right to; she had stripped him of his power, flung him from the throne he felt was rightfully his, one-upped him in power, and then brought him back to life so he could see all he had sought to destroy still living.

He should hate her. But he knew he never could.

While she had taken everything from him, she had also given him more than he ever felt he could ask for; a home. A house only meant something if there was someone to share it with, someone waiting for you, and someone who would care for you without payment.

Aerith was his someone.

Sephiroth readied himself to put his boots back on, ready to go find Aerith and, if not apologize, at least feel meek when she got the general message that he was sorry for being so terse, but before he could do anything of the sort the knob to the room rattled. Lying completely still, head still under his pillow, Sephiroth listened as Aerith cautiously crept across the room. He took pride in the fact that he could recognize her footsteps, despite how noisy it might have been outside.

When he felt a slight pressure upon the foot of his bed, he pulled his head from under his pillow and looked up. Gasping, Aerith took a step back, completely dropping what she had been carefully placing at the end of the general's bed.

First, he looked at her, puzzled that she had come after him. Then, he looked at the end of his bed. Upon it sat a black, wooden box. Again, he looked at Aerith, puzzled.

Aerith smiled sheepishly. "It's, um, dinner." She shrugged. "It's not much, but it's warm, and I bet it tastes better than sandwiches."

Carefully, Sephiroth sat up, moving toward the end of his bed. He picked up the box, and then placed it in his lap. He looked up and noticed that Aerith had a box in her hands, hers pink. Slowly, he reached over and patted the empty space of the bed next to him with the flat of his palm. He felt sheepish, offering Aerith a place to sit when not long ago he had been so brusque with her.

She, however, sat next to him, warm smile set upon her lips. Sephiroth looked at her out of the corner of his vision, and she merely watched him for a few moments.

He reached for his notebook, which he had placed upon his bedside table before he had laid down, but before he could even place a hand on it he heard Aerith sigh. "You don't have to say anything; I understand that you were upset."

Sephiroth suddenly found the pattern of the wood floor very interesting. He tired not to look at Aerith, though he knew she had her eye fixated upon him. He sighed, sheepishly.

He didn't, however, expect Aerith to start laughing. He looked up at her, puzzled and a little embarrassed.

She covered her mouth with her hand, but didn't stop laughing. Sephiroth didn't want her to stop; even if she was laughing at him, he loved the sound of her laugh.

"I'm sorry," she wheezed. "It's just that I've never seen you mope and sulk before, and I couldn't contain myself."

Sephiroth let the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth go free, this one feeling more natural than the others before it. He even rolled his eyes in mock-sarcasm to get across the point that he wasn't angry with her, just, as she had so loquaciously put it, sulky.

"Open your lunch," she went on to persist. "I don't know what's in them, so if it's something awful that you can't stand eating, we can trade. I'm not a picky eater."

Pleased that when he opened his lunch box nothing vile jumped out at him (the food didn't even growl, though that's how many of the rumors regarding street-meat went), Sephiroth grew even happier to discover that the food inside wasn't half bad. It wasn't nearly as good as what Aerith could cook up, but it was far better than sandwiches.

He pulled apart his set of chopsticks and rubbed them together a bit, following Aerith's example, then speculated over what to eat first. Pleased that everything looked as good as it tasted, he sampled one of everything in his box before eating larger amounts of what remained in the container. Sephiroth found his favorite to be a spicy little sea creature-shaped thing.

"Oh!" Aerith chirped, curling her toes for emphasis. "You have to try this!" Delicately, she pulled a small white lump from her box, expertly holding it between her chopsticks. Holding one hand under her pair of chopsticks, she eased her body over and leaned up, offering the general her treat.

Sephiroth took it without hesitation.

It was delicious. Whatever it was, it was sweet, flakey, and dripping with sugar. Sephiroth felt the need to curl his toes as Aerith had, but he resisted the urge.

Aerith smiled up at him, then turned back to her box and reached for another.

He watched her eat. Consuming food was a mundane task which Sephiroth found annoying, but eating with Aerith was, to say the least, enjoyable. She ate smaller bites than he did, chewed longer than he did as well, and when she found something she liked, her face would light up. If it were truly delicious, her toes would curl in the most delightful way.

Sephiroth found endless amusement in her.

He discovered, however, as he sat with her, that the thing he most admired about her wasn't her courage, her strength, or her will.

It was her smile.

Without knowing why, Sephiroth realized as he watched her eat that there was nothing that made him as close to happy as he had ever been than watching her smile. He felt, of course, very silly over it, but couldn't help it.

Finishing off the last of his rice, he pondered what could be done to make her smile.

She loved flowers, that much he was certain of, but flowers were no good on a long trip. She could, of course, use another hair ribbon- or at least he thought she could; women weren't exactly his area of expertise. He was hesitant after his first ordeal with ribbon shopping, and he felt he'd rather not attempt such a feat any time soon.

Then, he scowled. Seeing Cloud had made her happy; happier than he had ever seen her. Did friendship truly mean that much to her?

Did Cloud's friendship mean that much to her?

Feeling uneasy, Sephiroth shifted his weight on the bed, finishing what food was left in the box. What, then, did she think of him? She had been, after all, upset enough to cry when she thought he had left her. She had also left the prospect of being reunited with Cloud just to travel with him.

What, then, was he to her?

Aerith stood and faced the general. "Come to the festival with me; you'll like it, I promise."

Sephiroth shifted his weight again. He was, by and large, unsure of what to do. He wanted to please Aerith, but quite honestly he didn't want to go back outside. So many people in such a small area; hardly enough room to breath, let alone walk; children screaming; animals making noises; the smells of animals making noises; vendors yelling out types of wares; in all honesty, it didn't sound interesting to Sephiroth in the slightest, given the fact that he had time to think about all that was going on downstairs and out the door.

He looked up at Aerith. Her rosy lips were curled into a pleading smile; simple, slightly worried, and, above all, cute. She pulled the look off masterfully, and Sephiroth wondered how many years she had devoted to obtaining such a look.

Rolling his eyes, he put his boots back on and followed the flower girl out the door.


	22. Alone

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 22: Alone

Through the night, the din of the crowd had grown louder and louder as people tried to talk over the live music that jumped around the stage in the middle of the square. Sephiroth, both amused at the musician's actions and a little more than disturbed, watched with much interest. Humans, he mused, were interesting creatures. Yes, while in name and body he was also considered human, his inability to speak left him to feel alienated in a crowd that hummed with excitement and chatter. Aerith, having taken to the excitement quite well, led the way through the maze of bodies that filled the streets. Vendors shouted at her to buy their products, and, being kind, she stopped and chatted with what Sephiroth felt to be every single one of them.

It was obvious the locals had taken a quick liking to her.

Still, for some reason he couldn't quite understand, he felt as though they didn't belong in Kalm. Perhaps it was the amount of people, the festivities, or the fact that he felt Mideel to be their true home, but Sephiroth didn't want to stay anymore then they had to.

However, watching Aerith smile that beautiful smile of hers made him a little less anxious to leave. While he walked, his feet buzzed from the amplitude of noise the speakers in front of the stage were giving off. It made him uncomfortable, but he knew there was nothing that could be done for it.

The cobblestones stilled their humming and fell silent to the night again; the music, and nearly all of the people, had stopped. Suddenly, all the lights around the city went off and an amazing explosion of light burst into tiny starlight-particles and scattered across the sky.

Sephiroth had seen fireworks, but he had never actually stopped to watch them. This time was no different, however. It wasn't his lack of interest that caused him to ignore the fire in the sky; he was more prone to watch the lights reflect in Aerith's eyes when she wasn't paying attention.

He was bothered by this in a way. Never before had he ever paid so much attention to something, especially a person. A strange tugging in his chest told him the feeling wasn't likely to go away. It was almost painful.

When the fireworks dimmed, and the lights of the lamps posted at each street corner blinked to life, illuminating the night with a dim, soft, glow, Aerith looked up at him and smiled. "Ready for bed, then?"

Sephiroth felt his face grow hot, and he silently hoped she had not caught him looking at her with such intensity. Suddenly, he felt very silly. He avoided her gaze all the way back to the hotel.

Upon entering, Sephiroth shed his boots and headed straight for bed, having bathed earlier that evening before he and the flower girl had set out to enjoy the festivities. Aerith, following his example, freed her own feet from her boots and crawled under the covers of her bed.

"Sephiroth?"

He rolled over slightly in the dark, enough to make the springs of his bed creak loud enough to signal that he was listening.

"I forgive you."

It was whispered.

Sephiroth closed his eyes as an onslaught of emotions tore at him. Why did she insist on telling him that? He had heard it before, every night since they had been brought back, save for those few days in the hospital, but why wouldn't she understand? Forgiveness was far too great a thing to ask for, let alone for her to grant it to him. Sephiroth felt as though he couldn't take it- as though it wasn't his; that he had done nothing to earn it.

He was as much infuriated with her words as he was softened by them. She, truly, meant no harm. Kind and warm, Aerith was the type of person to not judge another by their actions, but rather, what lay in their heart.

What, then, was repressed so far in the heart of the swordsman that it took the eyes of another to see?

Sephiroth sighed, rolled over, and fell into a fitful sleep.

Long past the break of morning, Sephiroth rolled out of bed. Used to the comfort of his old mattress back in Mideel, the bed of the inn was, to say the least, lumpy and unfitting for most living things. He cursed himself for not paying the extra hundred gil for a nicer room, then pushed it from his mind. Stuffing his feet into his boots, he rubbed at his eyes and yawned.

Aerith exited the bathroom having only just finished blow-drying her hair from her shower. "Good morning," she chirped.

Sephiroth nodded once, attempting to keep his eyes open. He couldn't recall ever being so tired and sore.

Aerith scrunched up her face, and the general assumed she was attempting to hold in a laugh. "Anyway," she sighed. "I figured we could leave today. For some reason, I get the feeling that you're really not enjoying yourself too much."

Feeling more than a little guilty, Sephiroth scribbled a note to her. 'I don't mind what we end up doing. Whatever you decide is fine with me.'

She smiled at him, half-heartedly. "I don't suppose you'd mind, then, if we waited until after the closing ceremony to leave? It'll only last a few minutes, and I was hoping to see it."

Sephiroth shrugged in response, absentmindedly.

Damn cheap inn mattresses and their aftereffects.

The crowd, having only grown in size since the night before, was huddled all around the stage in the middle of the town square. After gathering all of the belongings from their small room of the inn, Sephiroth and Aerith joined the massive sea of bodies.

The speakers suddenly hummed, and a high-pitched screeching sound was emitted from them. Several people in the crowd, namely those closest to said speakers, covered their ears in protest and grumbled something awful about the sound technicians behind the stage.

"Kalm natives, visitors, and guests alike; today, it seems, is our last day together," boomed the voice of a large man, center stage, wearing a ribbon across his wide chest proclaiming him mayor of Kalm.

Sephiroth's eyelids dropped on several occasions during the mayor's speech. Too tired to care what the man had to say, he nodded off a number of times. He didn't bother to open his eyes until he heard Aerith gasp.

When the general looked over, he saw that her face had been drained of much of its color. Following her gaze across the crowd, Sephiroth noticed a small brunette woman in a light green dress, holding the hand of a young girl no more than ten.

Sephiroth nudged Aerith to pull her from her stupor. She looked up at him, color receding back into her cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, Sephiroth silently asked if all was well.

Aerith blinked a few times, obviously in need of a moment to compose herself. She let out a small sigh, then shook her head. "Do you see that woman over there? In the green, with the child?"

Looking back to where the pair stood, fingers interlocked, Sephiroth nodded.

"That's my mom."

Sephiroth's gaze snapped back to Aerith, shock and confusion having apparently taken over his face.

"Not my real mom, of course. She's by foster mother, but at least now I know she's alright." Aerith turned, and started toward the entrance for the town, despite the fact that the mayor still continued with his speech.

Once out of the city gates, Sephiroth pulled his notebook out, fighting with himself over what question that was wracking his brain to ask her. Why hadn't she wanted to see her mother? Humans were social creatures, and accustomed to family. Why, then, had Aerith merely walked away from what family she had?

Before his pen could touch the paper, however, Aerith huffed out a sigh and turned to her companion. "I know what you're going to ask, so don't bother writing it down." She seemed aggravated, and Sephiroth felt, suddenly, sheepish. "I'm dead to her, as terrible as it seems. Tifa, Barrett, someone; they must have told her. What would it be like if I were to just march right up to her and hug her? I'm dead, Sephiroth. I'm alive, but I'm dead."

Her eyes seemed to shimmer with moisture, telling Sephiroth that she was going to cry. Not knowing what to do about it, he merely gave her a sheepish look and shifted his weight.

She couldn't help smile at him, choking back a sob. "Before you even think of it, just know that I don't blame you."

Sephiroth tore his gaze from hers. How could she not blame him? Was it not his sword that ran her through? Was it not his very hands that drove the blade that severed her soul from her body? And she didn't blame him?

She was either more forgiving than Sephiroth though, or very stupid.

He greatly doubted the latter.

"Come on," Aerith sighed, wiping the corner of one eye with her sleeve. "We better get going."

Sephiroth didn't make eye-contact with her again, but he nodded his head to inform her that he heard.

They set out with the warm sun beating down on them.


	23. Storm

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

This chapter is dedicated to my darling little Puckero for her wonderful gift art for this story, and to Peter, who secretly knows blacksmithing is his real calling. And, of course, to my zombie-editor, who owns my soul.

Also, I'd like to take a moment and thank all of you wonderful people who read this story, and a giant thanks, as well, to those of you who are kind enough to leave reviews. You're love is what keeps me writing! And worry not, fair readers, for this is far from the end!

Chapter 23: Storm

A cascade of water plummeted from the heavens, beating upon the earth as though it would like nothing more than to ravage its beauty and destroy every green thing that grew from the now muddy surface. The sky lit up, and only a matter of moments passed by before the soil shook with the heaven's thunderous outcry.

Sephiroth liked the rain. He did not, however, like to get caught in it.

His boots stuck in the mud, making them heavy and hard to walk in. They made the most terrible of squelching sounds when he lifted his foot, and a completely different, though just as awful, sound when he set them back down again.

Aerith, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself. She had taken the liberty of removing her boots, carefully placing her socks within her pack, and was merrily squishing the mud between her toes. The rain had driven all of the plane monsters into hiding, so Aerith had no reason to fear they might be attacked.

Sephiroth, however, was less amused by the downfall that fell from the sky. His shirt hugged him in odd places, his pants stuck to parts pants shouldn't normally stick to, his feet were clammy, his hair was heavy, and he couldn't see through all of the rain.

It was only four in the afternoon.

He bit his tongue, nevertheless, for Aerith seemed to be rightly enjoying herself. A small smile was spread gently across the features of her face, and her eyelashes were covered in water droplets, making them look longer and darker than they actually were. Other than the sound the downpour made, and the occasional thunderclap, the only other thing that broke the silence of the plane was Aerith's soft humming.

It made the storm a bit more bearable, in Sephiroth's mind.

She had, after all, made the point that there was no purpose in making camp, as all of their supplies were already soaked though, and putting up a wet tent would defeat the purpose of putting up a tent at all. Tents, certainly, were meant to keep one warm and dry. That and it was still early in the afternoon; had they stopped, there would have been nothing for either of them to do but wait out the storm.

Sephiroth had agreed with her last point; either way, they had to put up a wet tent, and it would be better to pitch it farther along than right at the beginning.

The storm, just as well, showed no sign of relenting, meaning that would be unable to build a fire either way.

Truthfully, Sephiroth hated the cold. He would rather melt to death under a heat lamp, or even upon the surface of the sun, than spend more time than needed out in the cold.

The rain was just that; cold.

His hate, however, was not without reason; cold reminded him of the time he spent waiting in the crater, waiting for Cloud to come. Waiting for that wretch, Jenova, to tell him what to do. Waiting and waiting until he lost feeling in his limbs, until his mind felt as numb as the ice made his body, until he felt he could wait no longer…

But, the past, as Aerith would say, should not dictate the future. He knew her to be completely aware of what he had done to her, yet she said it regardless, and it somehow eased him.

Sephiroth made an attempt to enjoy the rain, despite the fact that it was cold and caused his boots make unpleasant noises.

A dark, murky spot began to form on the horizon, and Sephiroth pondered what it could be. He had never taken part in much schooling when it came to geography as far as cities were concerned. Sure, he knew his way around well enough, but that didn't mean he cared. Because of the rain, his senses were clouded (something he was not, in any particular way, fond of) and the only thing he hoped for was that they were still heading south-west

Soon, the spot grew in size and color until Aerith, too, could see it. She pointed ahead of them, letting out a joy-filled laugh. "Do you think that might be some sort of shelter?"

Sephiroth shrugged, implying that he hadn't the foggiest, but sure as hell hoped so.

Aerith added a light bounce to her step. Sephiroth, however reluctant to follow such a lead in his wet boots, found himself, at the very least, walking faster.

A booming thunderclap erupted overhead, shaking the ground. Aerith let out a short squeal of surprise, and then laughed. "I love thunderstorms."

Sephiroth, too, enjoyed the thunder, but based on how loud that last thunderclap was, he began to feel uneasy. They needed to find cover, and find it fast. He quickened his strides. When he caught up with Aerith, he nodded his head in a sideways motion, hoping she caught his drift; whatever the structure was, they were going to head for it, and they were going to get there as quickly as possible.

After several minutes of silence, yet another thunderclap shook the ground, this one so loud it caused Aerith to drop to her knees and cover her ears with the palms of her hands. Sephiroth turned around. This storm was not due to stop, and the lightning was striking closer. They needed cover, and they needed it fast.

Reaching out his hand, Sephiroth scooped up Aerith's wet palm in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She looked up at him and smiled faintly, almost as if she were embarrassed. Sephiroth couldn't tell if her cheeks were pink from the rain, or something else.

Shoving such ideas as far from his brain as possible, he helped Aerith stand.

Then, they began to run.

Despite looking small and frail, Aerith kept up with Sephiroth as they raced through the rain. Their legs pumped beneath them, and their feet tore at the mud. It was as though they were attempting to outrun the rain itself.

Lightning and thunder chased them.

Finally, the structure in the distance gave way to an outline; it was a barn. Sephiroth immediately recognized it: it was the Chocobo Ranch! They really had been traveling in the right direction after all.

"We're almost there!" Aerith panted, gripping his hand tightly in hers.

Closer and closer they ran, the lightning strikes growing closer and closer. The barn doors opened suddenly, and a young boy with a lantern motioned them inside. "Hurry up, or you'll get fried!" he called over the storm.

The large gated door swung closed behind them, and Aerith and Sephiroth skidded to a stop, both soaked to the bone. "We made it!" Aerith punched the air over her head. "I can't believe it!"

The boy set the lantern down, ridding himself of the clear plastic poncho that had kept the rain from soaking his clothes. "Are you two nuts!" he chastised. "Running around in the rain!" Suddenly, he pointed to Aerith. "And your girl here doesn't have shoes on, for chocobo's sake!"

Placing his hands on his knees, Sephiroth tried to slow his breath and regulate his heartbeat. Aerith, on the other hand, plopped down on the cement floor of the barn as though it were nothing more than feathers and panted heavily. "Oh, I'm so tired."

"Are you two even listening?" Placing a hand on his hips, the boy made a face.

Slowly, Aerith nodded. "We didn't mean to get caught in the storm; it just all of a sudden got cloudy, and then started pouring on us."

The boy shook his head and sighed, moving to the back of the barn. He returned with two bottles of water, as well as a few potions. "Still," he shrugged. "You wouldn't catch me out there; not on my life."

Suddenly, the barn door swung open again. Another thunderclap echoed throughout the planes, causing the earth to tremble beneath heaven's might fury. The chocobos went wild in their stalls, kicking and warking and making a big fuss.

"Oh, hush up!" the figure called out, slamming the barn's heavy doors shut.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Throwing his hands over his head, the boy made his way to the door. "I told you to stay inside the house!"

The figure in the door pulled off the hood of the poncho, revealing a rosy face and big brown eyes. "And I thought I told you not to boss me around!" the voice obviously belonged to a girl.

Aerith, having regained her breath, sat up, watching the two. Sephiroth, too, turned his attention to the bickering pair near the barn doors. Taking the initiative, Aerith cleared her throat.

Both figures looked at her, almost sheepishly. "Sorry," the boy smiled, placing a hand behind his head.

He stood tall for a boy his age, and slightly muscular. His hair was brown, matching his eyes, and tossed about in a mousey mop atop his head. The girl next to him, somewhat shorter, had eyes and hair to match. "I'm Puck," the girl replied, holding her hand out in front of her to shake Aerith's. "This is my brother, Pete." The boy, in turn, stuck out his hand and shook Aerith's.

"I'm Aerith, and my friend here is Seph-"

A sudden gust of wind, as if perfectly on cue, rammed the double doors of the barn and caused them to rattle. The two youngsters looked about the barn, hoping the disturbance wouldn't rile the chocobos again. In the heat of the moment, Sephiroth was lucky enough to catch Aerith's gaze. Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes wide with worry.

Back in Mideel, none of the villagers had asked his name. His appearance was unique enough, but the fact that he was always near Aerith's side had set them at ease around the pair. They had liked Aerith, and therefore they liked the strange man she traveled with. The only people who knew of his name were the doctor back at the clinic, Rej, and perhaps the receptionist who had asked for their signatures when they had checked out.

But surely children knew the story of what happened two years ago; the great Shinra general had snapped, and called Meteor details, he was sure, were skewed, but the basic idea was easily enough interpreted with the collapse of Shinra. He was sure to be labeled a madman, were anyone to discover he was still living. Sephiroth was lucky to avoid attention in Mideel; he was afraid he wouldn't be quite so lucky elsewhere.

Based off the look he had given her, however, Aerith understood what his eyes so desperately attempted to explain to her.

Puck took off her poncho and set it near where her brother had placed his. "What were you saying? I didn't catch that."

Aerith turned her attention to the two youths in front of her and let a warm smile cascade over her lips again. "Sorry. My name is Aerith, and my partner here is Seph."

Sephiroth almost grunted. Seph? It sounded more like a pet name for an adoring girlfriend than an actual name. She had, however, been quick on her toes to cover what she had said, and for that Sephiroth was grateful.

Pete shifted his weight from foot to foot. "My sister saw you running across the fields, and we figured you were trying to get out of the rain."

Aerith nodded. "I'm glad you noticed us. It would have been terribly rude of us merely to barge in."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Sephiroth sighed lightly under his breath. Minutes before, she had been running with him, and she would have kept running with him even if he had busted the barn doors down in order to get out of the rain, and yet here she was speaking of being rude for intruding upon chocobo stables. They were in a barn, or crying out loud! The entire place stunk of metal, hay, and the dratted giant chickens.

Puck scratched her head. "Well, we don't have any rooms to rent to you."

Aerith tilted her head. "Oh? I passed through here a few years ago, and the house doubled as a small inn for travelers. What happened?"

Pete shrugged. "This place has been under new management for nearly three months now. The old chocobo-guru who used to live here with his grandkids ended up not being able to pay for the property any longer, so we bought it off of him. It's just Puck, our father, and I, and we don't have any room in the house for extra people any longer."

Aerith looked to Sephiroth, an almost hurt look upon her face. She did not wear worry well. "What should we do, then?"

Puck's eyes lit up. "You're more than welcome to stay with the chocobos here in the barn, if you want."

Pete glared at his sister. "Are you nuts? Father's out of town, and he told us-"

Rolling her eyes, Puck placed a hand on her hip. "Father said not to let anyone into the house. They aren't in the house, are they? And besides, we can't let them back into that storm."

Aerith, again, looked to Sephiroth for an answer. Brushing mud off of his calves, he stood his full height and sized the two youngsters up. Pete looked to be of age; at least seventeen, but his sister looked younger, perhaps thirteen. Both, unaware of how tall he was at first, took a tentative step backwards in order to look upon him properly.

Pete looked directly into his eyes, no trace of fear in them, though uncertainty was a little clear. His sister puffed out her chest and tilted her head, not to know what to make of the giant in front of her. Sephiroth, after all, stood over six feet, and Puck was hardly taller than his waist.

Slowly, he nodded.

Aerith smiled. "Thank you so much for letting us wait out the storm here."

Shrugging, Pete tore his gaze from Sephiroth and turned to Aerith. "Well, it would be suicide to stay out in that storm any longer, so it's no big deal."

Sephiroth, at first worried that Aerith would have no proper place to rest, was relived when Puck disappeared into a large door at the back of the barn and returned with two folded cots and a few blankets. With a slight smile on her face, she warned them that they were old, and might smell funny, but Aerith laughed and told the girl that it was not a problem. The travelers were allowed one of the empty stalls at the end of the barn to set up their cots; the barn had just been cleaned, luckily enough, so the smell of chocobo was weak, and the floor was at least free of hay and dirt. Aerith didn't seem to mind, the general noted. But then again, if she did, she most likely wouldn't have said anything anyway.

When their makeshift beds were set up, Puck took to taking the two newcomers on a tour of the barn. The girls took to one another faster than a duck takes to water, despite the age gap between them. Sephiroth supposed Aerith was thankful for some female company at long last, even if the female in question was miniature.

Pete, however, had left the girls to giggle about themselves and set to his own tasks, keeping himself busy while hardly taking his eyes off Sephiroth for a moment.

Sitting down on the work bench near one of the middle stalls, Sephiroth tilted his head down and crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. One of the few things that had ever succeeded in wearing him down had always been the weather. The snow made his body ache; the heat made him uncomfortable, the rain made him sleepy; no matter what, the forces of nature had it in for him.

The rain continued to pelt the tin roof of the barn, creating an almost angelic melody sent specifically to calm those upon earth. The thunder and lighting was beginning to pass, and Sephiroth was grateful; perhaps he could get a nap in. When the rain slowly turned into a mere drizzle, nearly three hours had passed. Sephiroth had not moved from the workbench, but he hadn't been able to catch the nap he was hoping for either.

In an almost whisper, Sephiroth heard Pete speak to Aerith. "Why doesn't your partner say anything?"

Sephiroth fought with the urge to open his eyes and glare at the young man before him. What business of his was it?

He, however, could almost hear Aerith smile sadly. "He did something he shouldn't have, and guilt caught up with him."

Sephiroth's blood ran cold. Was that truly the reason why he couldn't talk? Was guilt not allowing him to speak?

Somehow, he had never believed the doctor back at the clinic who had told him it was post traumatic stress disorder. He had created a viable solution in his own mind, and had rejected the reality of others; Sephiroth thought that the planet was punishing him.

Humans need constant interaction; communication. They need to know that they exist, and they use others to prove it. When someone calls out your name, it proves you exist; that they need you, or that they want you.

Without a voice, Sephiroth felt he had no existence. Yes, he could still communicate via his notebook, but there was only so much his paper and pens would allow him to say. He couldn't call out Aerith's name to prove her existence, despite the fact that he could reach out and touch her just to make sure she was real.

Being real and existing are two completely different ideas, though they coincide with one another as would a lock and key. Trees are real. They exist upon the plain of reality, but beyond merely existing, living, there is nothing. Humans interact with other humans beyond the basic level of living. Friends, relatives, lovers; they are all connected in some way, and they are all conscious of the presence of others by means of their voices; of what they say.

Some claim that actions speak louder than words, but without a voice, what good are your actions?

Sephiroth suddenly felt very empty, and very alone.

Standing, he sighed and walked to their makeshift bedroom in the back of the barn. Carefully placing Masamune against the wall, Sephiroth removed his boots and pulled the musty blanket over his head.

Never before in his life had he felt so completely alone. There was so much inside of him, new and old feelings alike, crawling, screaming, and struggling to get out.

But they remained, and would linger until he was ready, all the while unspoken.


	24. Forgiveness

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 24: Forgiveness

The storm didn't relent, even into the long hours of the night. Though the sky was dark with rain, the barn remained warm and brightly lit by several lamps the children left on for the few chocobos. Though the cot that Sephiroth rested upon was small, it wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, Sephiroth was highly contented, and the musty smell of wet hay and chocobo feed had, albeit slowly, become somewhat of a comfort. Sephiroth, however, couldn't get back to sleep. He had napped fitfully though the night, and while it wasn't the thunder and lightning that had initially woken him, the booming and shaking outside of the barn reminded him that he was indeed awake.

Sighing, he stood and left the stall he had been allowed to occupy. Not expecting to meet with someone in the middle of the night, Sephiroth was extremely surprised to see the older of the two children out and about, bustling to and fro and muttering something about 'the dratted rain' as well as 'silly birds' as he did so.

The boy, apparently having momentarily forgotten that he had allowed two strangers to sleep in his barn, gave a jump at the sight of the moonlight man at the end of the barn. Then, sighing, the boy smiled a little sheepishly. "I didn't wake you, did I?" Pete scratched the back of his head, laughing almost nervously. "I guess I had forgotten that you and Aerith were sleeping."

Sephiroth gave a shrug. Truly, he had not heard the boy busting about, but now that he was truly awake he saw no damage in offering the boy some help. He scribbled a simple question on his notepad, while Pete looked on curiously, and then presented it to the small chocobo keeper.

Pete shrugged like Sephiroth had only moments before. "Sure I could use your help, since you offered. I take it you can start a fire?"

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

Pete chuckled and shrugged once more. "Well, you never know." Pointing across the room, Pete indicated to a small forge where a stall had once stood. "If you could start a fire and get the coals going, that would really be great."

Sephiroth did as the boy indicated without hesitation. Keeping the small coals going within the forge, however, was a task Sephiroth was not accustomed to. It proved, however, worthy in the end, for after Pete had finished setting out new straw for the chocobo pen's, he informed the man with silver hair that he was fixing a shoe on a chocobo.

Sephiroth looked to the birds. Chocobos wore shoes?

Apparently sensing what Sephiroth was thinking, Pete gave a little smile as he pulled a chocobo from its stable.

Noting that the chocobo wasn't wearing sneakers on its feet, Sephiroth felt more than a tad bit sheepish. He had, after all, only ridden a chocobo once, and he hardly paid any attention to what was on its feet. Lifting a clawed foot of the bird, Pete showed Sephiroth that the chocobo had small, jointed metal attachments on the bottom of its foot.

"This is Emerald. She's our work chocobo; she helps us plow the garden and she's the one who always pulls the carts to Kalm, so we have to make sure her claws are protected from rocks and stickers and whatnot."

Nodding, Sephiroth tucked this information into the back of his mind. It wasn't useful at the moment, of course, but it might become so one day.

Pete took out a large hammer and began working with the stock metal he had in large scraps under his workbench. "Chocobo shoes aren't really that difficult in design, but they are a pain in the neck to make because every little part has to be perfect or the chocobo might be hurt."

The clanging of metal filled the barn. As Sephiroth had guessed, it wasn't long before the clanging woke Aerith. Sleepily rubbing her eyes and making somewhat of a sour face, she rose from her cot and meandered from her stall with one had rubbing a half-closed eye. "What's with the racket?"

Pete didn't look up from his work, but answered her all the same. "Sorry; we were just making a new shoe for Emerald here."

At the sound of her name, the chocobo let out an indignant "wark," informing Pete that it wasn't her fault he was making a shoe in the middle of the night.

Hushing the bird without looking up, Pete made a few more adjustments to the bird's shoe before picking it up with a set of tongs and dipping it in a bucket of water. The metal hissed and a small puff of steam erupted over the edges of the wooden container. "I've been working on this shoe for a few weeks now; it usually doesn't take that long, but we've been having some strange weather lately, so I've had a little less time to work on this kind of thing."

Picking up the bird's claw yet again, Pete slipped the shoe on Emerald's claw. Nipping his ear affectionately, Emerald cooed then flexed her toes and looked down at her foot.

"Well, that's it for the night." Pete yawned, and then scratched the back of his head. "Sorry to have woken you both." Placing Emerald back into her stall, Pete dimmed a few of the lanterns and gave the two strangers yet another farewell until morning.

Aerith, no longer seeming tired in the least, stretched her hands out above her head and stood on her toes, making a strange little sound while she did so. Then, she walked to the stall where Pete had placed Emerald only moments before and reached out a tentative hand. "Hey there, little bird; may I pet you?"

Sticking her head out of the stall, Emerald cooed as Aerith gently scratched the feathery tuff at the top of the bird's head. Reaching into her pocket, Aerith pulled a sugar cube and presented it to the chocobo.

"Ouch!" Aerith squealed as the bird nipped her fingers, eager for the cube of sugar that had been presented to her. "That hurt!" Aerith stuck the tip of her index finger in her mouth and shot the bird a nasty look.

Sephiroth smiled, albeit only on the inside, as he watched Aerith. Moving from the workbench to her side, he gestured for her to pull out another cube of sugar. Making somewhat of a grudging face, Aerith did as she was bade, reaching into her pocket and presenting the general with a sugar cube. "Puck gave them to me to treat the birds with after you had gone to sleep."

Sephiroth nodded, not remembering the child giving Aerith sugar cubes for the birds, but understanding all the same. Though he had never been around a chocobo more than once, he too had a similar experience involving a sugar cube and the tip of his finger bleeding profusely. Gesturing for Aerith to lay her hand flat, Sephiroth placed the sugar cube in the middle of Aerith's hand. Then, placing his hand under hers, he gently guided her hand toward the chocobo.

"No," she pleaded. "She'll bite me again!"

Ignoring her pleas, Sephiroth held Aerith's outstretched hand. The chocobo, not deterred by the dirty look Aerith had shot it only moments before, reached out and plucked the sugar from the flower girl's outstretched hand. After consuming the cube, the bird pressed its beak against Aerith's hand and carefully lapped up the few grains of sugar that had escaped with its tongue.

Aerith looked up at Sephiroth with a look of bewilderment and amusement, surprised that the bird hadn't hurt her as well as pleased that the bird had been so gentle when she had laid her fingers flat. Then, she smiled up at him; a truly bright, happy smile.

Sephiroth forced himself to look away.

A deep foreboding feeling crept into his chest and wrapped several cold claws closed around the general's lungs, constricting his airspace to an amount most uncomfortable. He watched the bird cluck and coo in thanks, or at least Sephiroth supposed they were thanks, and then settled down in the hay for a good rest.

"I forgive you, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth didn't need to see Aerith's face to know that a smile graced her visage. The claws' grasp only further constricted until an outlet formed by means of Sephiroth's notebook and pen.

'Why?'

Why is a question asking for recognition, most often followed by the function of what. What Sephiroth was asking was truly not 'why' but 'what have I ever done to earn such a thing.' The words, however, didn't form in the right procession; in fact, the words that had spilled from his pen weren't mildly close to the ones swimming around his frontal lobe, but 'why' is what cascaded from his pen tip, and so 'why' was the question Aerith was asked to answer.

The flower girl creased her brow.

"Forgiveness isn't something I just hand out, if that's what you are trying to accuse me of, Sephiroth." The way she had said his name was bitter, as if she was accusing him of something far worse than the sins he had committed, albeit he felt such a thing impossible. "I forgive you because for me to forgive you is the biggest step there is on the pathway for you to forgive yourself, and eventually for the planet to forgive you. I forgive you because I want to, and even if you don't see why I should I do it anyway."

She forced out a sigh, knowing that she sounded bitter.

"Kindness isn't found as often in this world as I would like to pretend, unfortunately. I am your greatest sin, despite what you may think; if your greatest sin can forgive you, then why can't you forgive yourself?"

A stark silence, filled only by the sound of crashing raindrops on a tin roof, resonated throughout the barn. It seemed that even the chocobos could feel the tension in the room and had resolved to keep their beaks shut until the air thinned out.

Sighing heavily, Sephiroth scratched another note on his lines paper.

'It's not about forgiveness.'

Aerith frowned when she finished reading his message. "If it's not forgiveness, Sephiroth, then what is it about?"

Moving his hand to write his next statement down, Sephiroth stopped. Just moments before he had formulated a perfect answer to the question he knew she would ask thusly following what he had written down. That's why he had written it down in the first place; he had an answer for it. But suddenly, the answers escaped him.

He didn't know what it was truly about. In fact, he hadn't the slightest idea. Again, he sighed and made a frustrated scribble mark on his notepad. After his small tantrum, he handed his newly formed not to Aerith.

'It's about you and me and the planet. I don't know how, but it just is.'

Sephiroth thought she was going to become angry with him for not giving her a straight answer. She, however, merely smiled up at him and blinked innocently. "Of course it's about all of those things. But what you have to understand is that there is so much else tied into the planet, let alone you and I. You'll see with time what I mean, but you're going to have to be patient."

Sephiroth wrote another note for her, a quirk of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

'It's not as though we don't have time.'

Aerith smiled and feigned surprise. "Why, Sephiroth- was that sarcasm?"

Keeping a straight face, he pressed his index finger to his lips in a gesture for her not to speak any more upon the subject. Then, most unexpectedly, he winked at her. Pocketing his notebook, he spun around and returned to his musty cot in the back of the barn.


	25. Battle

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 25: Battle

It was mid-morning when Aerith finally woke, but thankfully she was a bit of a deep sleeper at times. Unsure of how much longer she was going to sleep, Sephiroth made it his business to rearrange their backpacks in a way that made the load considerably lighter for his traveling partner. Knowing that she would never allow such a thing were she awake, the general made haste when pulling the items from her pack and placing them into his. Luckily, it was only when the children started to bustle about the barn that Aerith finally stretched out and opened her eyes.

Sephiroth, after having communicated to the children that they needed a means to cross the swamp, had managed to buy some very, suddenly inexpensive, chocobo lure materia off of them.

'We are going to catch a chocobo to cross the swamp.'

Aerith blinked a few times before she looked up from the notebook, a very tired but understanding attempted nod as her only indication of comprehension.

"You guys want some breakfast?" Puck poked her head into Aerith's makeshift stall-bedroom.

The flower girl smiled brightly, suddenly awake. "We wouldn't want to intrude."

Pete poked his head in after his sister. "If you shake out your blankets, fold up your beds, and store everything in the loft, we'll consider breakfast as a fair enough trade for the labor. Now hurry up; I'm going to start the eggs as soon as feed the birds.

Considering good hospitality, not to mention food, was on the line, Aerith took care of the blankets, leaving Sephiroth to fold up the cots and place them up the small set of stairs near the far end of the barn. When they were done, the tantalizing smells and sounds of home cooked breakfast could be detected through the barn door.

What they met with, however, was a sad sight. "What happened?" Sephiroth heard Aerith exclaim though the puff of smoke that cascaded out of the now open front door.

When Puck stopped had managed to stop coughing, she looked up at Aerith, an uncomfortable grin on her face. "I spilled the jar of bacon grease on the stove when the burner was on."

Sephiroth watched as Aerith smiled, then motioned for him to follow her into the small doorframe, though the house, and into the kitchen. The fire had been put out thanks to Pete, but the wall was slightly charred. The faint smell of bacon could be detected over the smoke of wood and the hiss of metal.

No less than an hour later, the kitchen had been aired out, cleaned, and breakfast had not only been served, but had been eaten as well. Fresh chicken eggs (for one didn't merely eat chocobo) had been both scrambled and fried by the general. Afterwards, the bacon had been cooked. While it was sizzling, Aerith instructed the children to grab a knife and peel potatoes for hash browns. Sephiroth, pleased with cooking such a good looking meal, was duly surprised when it tasted even better than it looked. Juice was the drink of choice, of which Sephiroth found himself downing three large glasses before his toast was gone. It wasn't nearly as delicious as cake, but it was sweet and tart at the same time, and Sephiroth couldn't deny his new taste for it.

Shortly after the dishes were done, goodbyes were said. The mismatched couple were on their way again. Though the rain had subsided, heavy clouds loomed ominously overhead. Aerith continued to wave to the distance, the specks of the children only just visible on the horizon. She turned around and smiled up at her companion. "It's always nice to see kindness, especially in children."

Sephiroth shrugged, ushering her forward. The smile hadn't left her face, but Sephiroth could tell that she was saddened by their departure from the farm. Perhaps, if given the chance in the future, they'd visit.

Catching up with his surroundings and falling out of his thoughts, Sephiroth lifted an arm and pointed to the set of chocobo tracks ahead of them on the plane. Pulling the small, purple orb from his pocket, Sephiroth inserted it into a small hole in his weapon, though he kept it masamune in its sheath.

Off to his side, Aerith had started to make kissing noises, followed by clicks and coos that might get the attention of the large birds that were generally known for cuteness rather than brain capacity. Sure enough, a nearby tangle of trees began to shake and out popped a large, yellow, bird-like head. Coaxing the chocobo out of the bushes was one matter. Catching it was entirely different one, of the like Sephiroth wouldn't soon forget; the bird, though lacking higher cranial functions such as processed though, had managed to evade nearly every attempt the pair had made to catch it. Then, when it seemed that hope has snubbed them and lady luck, the fickle bitch, had all but ran out on them, Aerith took a moment to catch her breath. Sure enough the bird, apparently thinking that the entire ordeal had been some kind of game which was signaled to be over when Aerith sat down, had come over and nudged its beak against her cheek in an effort to get her to stand again and play more.

Sephiroth would never again doubt the intelligence of the dratted birds.

The chocobo, though lacking a saddle, proved to be easier to mount than the general had first anticipated. The bird squatted down and allowed the taller of the two to throw a leg over its side. It then stood, wiggled a bit, and looked for a good placement for the man's legs so as they wouldn't rub against its wings.

When he was finally set and situated, Sephiroth reached down and helped Aerith into the seat in front of him. It was then he because fully and quite aware how not only soft she was, but how good she smelled, despite having slept in a barn the night before. The hay had done nothing to her hair, save for giving it a musty aroma that Sephiroth couldn't exactly deny liking. But, being a gentleman, Sephiroth bit his tongue to keep his mind off the small frame nestled comfortably in front of him. He had always known she was small and soft and fragile, but he hadn't actually ever stopped to think about such it.

Now, of course, wasn't the time.

Gently spurring the chocobo in its sides, Sephiroth took hold of a plume of feathers below the bird's neck so as not to fall off. In front of him, Aerith made a sort of squealing sound when the chocobo shot off at a rather high speed. Her leaning so snugly against the general distracted him greatly, considering he was attempting to ignore the strange sensation in his chest.

He focused on the scenery, or at least attempted to.

A feverish squeal from the chocobo, however, sent the general plummeting back into reality. The chocobo had picked up more speed than it had initially started running with, and for good reason- a large, snake-like shadow in the murky swamp water was hot on their trail. The bird let out another frightened call. Sephiroth spurred the chocobo, hoping it had at least one more burst of speed. The bird, on the other hand, was running short of breath; the chocobo, for certain, was no racing bird.

The large snake-like shadow swerved around the slowing bird and raised itself above the murky swamp water, opening its gigantic mouth and hissing at the creatures who dared to impede upon the wetland.

Thinking as quickly as he could, Sephiroth veered the chocobo to the right. The Zolom, letting out another hiss of anger, struck after the fleeing bird. Muddy water sprayed up where the snake's head had hit the surface of the swamp, narrowly missing the chocobo and its passengers.

Sephiroth took a moment to glance down at the flower girl pressed firmly against his chest. She was frightened, yes, but not completely lacking competent thought process due to shock and fear yet. Releasing one hand from its firm grip on the chocobo, Sephiroth pointed to the small alcove of land in front of the cave that he knew the snake wouldn't dare tread on. Quickly glancing back at him, Aerith looked at him with a look of understanding and anxiety.

He nodded, then ejected himself fro the back of the chocobo.

Not checking to see if Aerith was running for the cave or not, the man with the shock of silver hair removed his katana from its sheath faster than the snake could detect. The Zolom charged again, furious. Leaping out of the way, Sephiroth made a perfect arc in the air with his body before slicing in a downward motion. Masamune cut into the flesh of the snake's neck, and blood began to cloud the already dingy water.

The snake, apparently not used to pain, thrashed out, hissing and spitting all over the place. Not prepared for such a reaction, Sephiroth fell victim to the tail end of the flailing snake. The blow weakened him considerably, knocking the wind out of him and sending him back a few feet.

Gathering together its senses, the Zolom hisses again and looked around for its prey. Rearing its head further into the air, the snake prepared itself to strike.

Sephiroth, however, was stuck in the mud. A sense of anxiety tightened his chest as he looked up into the gaze of the Zolom. Feverishly, he tried to dislodge his legs from the sticky mud, but the goo held fast and prevented the general from moving out of the way.

The Zolom struck just as Sephiroth held Masamune above his head. The snake, now stuck with a sword in against its lower and upper jaw, was not one to give in. Thrashing its head back and forth, it tired to dislodge the sword pressed against its face.

With one hand tightly holding Masamune's hilt, Sephiroth pressed his other hand into the back of the blade. Upper body strength was not a problem; the issue, however, was that the general couldn't get good footing in the mud. His back bent at a strange angle, Sephiroth bit his lip as he tried to straighten his body.

Suddenly, the Zolom's tongue dived feverishly at the general, past Masamune. The tongue, narrowly missing Sephiroth's head, retracted and made for another stab.

Throwing himself into the mud, Sephiroth turned his body in a way that took the Zolom downward with him. Where Masamune had rested inside the snake's mouth now stood a large gaping hole in the gum; Sephiroth had managed to pull one of the Zolom's teeth out with his turn of body.

The fang, unfortunately, scratched the arm of the general in the process of being ripped out of the snake's mouth. A feeling of coldness immediately took over Sephiroth's body. He turned to look at the wound, but his vision already began to blur and swirl. Sephiroth could feel the poison work its way through his body. His hands grew cold and heavy; within seconds of receiving the fang wound, Sephiroth's arms went numb and Masamune fell from his limp fingers.

A warm light engulfed him and the scent of flowers overpowered his senses. The next thing the general saw was the snake coming at him again. This time, however, Sephiroth was more than prepared for it. Sinking to his knees, Sephiroth retrieved Masamune from the mud. In a motion that only a master could perform, Sephiroth managed to behead the Zolom only moments before it struck him.

Looking around, Sephiroth's eyes made contact with that in which he had feared the moment he smelled the flowers; in the mud lie the flower girl, completely unconscious and thoroughly soaked.

Sheathing Masamune, Sephiroth trudged through the mud, assuming Aerith had jumped chocobo mere moments after he had directed her toward the cave in order to help him. While her help wasn't unappreciated, Sephiroth felt a twinge of annoyance considering she had blatantly disregarded her own safety after he had tried to fight a giant snake to protect her. Sighing, he bent down to pick her up out of the mud.

Reaching out, Sephiroth was surprised over how warm her body felt. Placing the back of his hand against her forehead made his heart sink; she was already running a fever.

Carefully picking Aerith up, Sephiroth attempted to be as gentle as he could. Walking through the muddy swamp with a woman in his arms, however, proved to be more difficult than he first anticipated. Still, the general wasn't about to give up. Eventually he began to near the end of the swamp, and the mud beneath his feet slowly began to give way to firmer earth.

The Mythril Mines glistened with phosphorescent beauty, almost as if welcoming in the two travelers with sparkling hospitality. Tenderly, Sephiroth placed Aerith's unconscious body upon the floor of the cavern, leaning her up against a stone wall. Retrieving both of their sleeping mats from their packs, Sephiroth also removed his coat to make a softer bed for the slumbering girl. Only when he was sure she would be comfortable did he lie her down.

Ideas of how she had ended up unconscious bumbled and tumbled through his head. The only halfway logical reason seemed to be that she had put too much into the cure spell she had used on him. It was only when he thought back on it did Sephiroth realized that the fang had, in fact, deeply punctured his skin. Looking to his arm, he saw that while his shirt was torn, his skin was clean and smooth. His mouth fell agape in awe.

Tenderly, Sephiroth placed the back of his hand to Aerith's forehead again. He frowned and furrowed his brow; she seemed warmer than before.

Gathering some dried leaves from the cavern floor, Sephiroth made a small pile near where Aerith lie. Carefully, with the skill of a master, he manipulated his fire materia orb to create a small, yet warm, controlled fire. Only after supplying the small fire with more suitable burning material did he turned his gaze once again to the flower girl.

He studied her, examined her, as she lie unconscious. Sephiroth had never watched another human sleep with such interest before, and he honestly doubted he ever would again; there was something about the flower girl that drew his interest. When he looked at her, he felt not as if he couldn't look away, but rather as if he didn't want to.

Suddenly, she stirred. Sephiroth sat on his knees next to her, partially looming over her. The heat of the fire warmed her cheeks and left them looking pinker than usual. He waited, almost holding his breath, for her to stir once more, but when she didn't Sephiroth sat back and felt himself slipping under her spell again.

How was it that she had managed to keep his interest? Not once had Aerith failed to surprise him. Just when he felt he had figured her out, she, like the seasons, changed right before his eyes. Sephiroth knew and understood that humans changed perhaps better than most, for he himself had changed a great deal once upon a time, but no matter how much he felt he understood such a concept, Aerith remained a mystery.

Tentatively, Sephiroth reached out his hand. Gently pulling a few fingers through her chestnut bangs, he contemplated what exactly he and the flower girl were to one another.

He kept her company, and she him. He fought, and she always made sure he was strong enough to do so. They shared a deep past, and were forced together, perhaps for the better now that Sephiroth contemplated it, by what felt like a deep connection, but what precisely it was Sephiroth couldn't say for sure.

She was special, no less, and that much Sephiroth did understand.

Pulling his fingers through her hair, he lost himself in thought, much like he noticed himself to be doing while in her presence as of late. The minds of all seemed to calm greatly when in her presence, the great general no exception.

Moving his hand from her hair and placing the back of his palm against Aerith's forehead once more, Sephiroth was relieved to find that her temperature had dropped.

Again, she stirred. Sephiroth quickly removed his hand and looked upon her with curiosity. Was she going to wake?

His hopes, however, were dashed like water on rocks when she merely twitched and fell back into slumber.

Sighing, Sephiroth made to lie upon his side, pillowing his head with his arm. Level with the flower girl, Sephiroth couldn't help but watch her sleep.


	26. Escape

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Author's Note: I can't apologize enough for how late this chapter ended up being. Atop of finding a job that works me 45 hours a week, I landed myself a boyfriend who not only has been my best friend for a while, but whom I'm also crazy about.

Also, it seems my editor developed a, oh what do you call those things? A life? Yes. One of those. So, before you read anything at all, allow me to apologize for any mistakes, grammatical errors, and punctuation rapage of any sort. No one has proof read this, and I read what I write as what I think I wrote, not actually what I really write (as if that made any sense at all).

Wishing everyone a happy winter season, and a happy whatever holiday you celebrate. On with the show!

Chapter 26: Escape

It was mid-afternoon when Sephiroth watched Aerith's emerald green eyes flutter open, confusion mixed heavily with drowsiness swimming in her irises. Placing a hand upon her head, Sephiroth observed her close her eyes tightly as though the room had spun when they were open. "What happened?" Her question was laced heavily with grogginess.

Removing his notebook from his pocket, Sephiroth scribbled a small message to his sleepy companion. 'We were attacked by the Zolom, and you used too much magic when you healed me, and thus passed out.'

It took a moment for Aerith's eyes to focus on the paper, and another for her to register what the note was saying. Turning her head toward the general sitting upon his knees next to her, she smiled meekly. "I know you told me to go to the cave, but I just had a bad feeling. I'm glad I turned around."

He replied with a simple message. 'I am glad too, for if you had not disobeyed my order, I would most likely have died.'

Aerith, upon reading his reply, laughed aloud. "Order? You sound so official. Shall I salute you and call you 'sir' next?"

Slyly, Sephiroth placed a hand to his chin and looked away, pretending to ponder such a prospect.

Again, Aerith laughed. Reaching out a hand, she looked once more at the general. "Help me up, would you? The room won't stay still."

He did as she asked, steadying her as she waited for the room to still. The general watched as Aerith slowly and carefully looked around at her surroundings. "I remember this place!" The smile she gave Sephiroth was pure. "We are in the Mythril Mines, aren't we?"

Nodding, Sephiroth noticed that Aerith seemed no longer dizzy. Cautiously, he let go of her tiny hand, though she didn't seem to notice. Sephiroth bent down and swiftly rolled up their sleeping mats and placed his jacket upon his back once more. Apparently still transfixed with their location, Aerith gazed at the walls and the ceiling with awe. "It's just as pretty as before!"

Sephiroth took a moment to look around. When he had first ventured past the swamp and into the Mythril Mine, he hadn't paid any attention at all to what wonders the cave held. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the cave was glowing with a light that seeped from the very rocks that lined the walls. It was, indeed, a beautiful sight.

Turning to Aerith when he noticed she was looking up at him and smiling, he couldn't help the questioning look that befell his features. Why did it seem as though she was always smiling? "Ready to go, then?" she questioned.

He nodded and began after her. Not long after they had set out, however, did Aerith start to talk of the cave. "I wonder why the rocks glow," she pondered aloud. "Could it be some type of mineral that reacts with air? Or is it a lower form of the magic found in materia that wasn't allowed to properly condense?" Sephiroth, not having the slightest clue as to why the rocks were glowing, made a mental note to check a library and find out when next they stayed in a place long enough to actually access a library and its resources.

On that note, Sephiroth's mind began to wander into the unfamiliar territory that was the deep recess of his mind as Aerith kept asking questions about their surroundings and filling in the answers with guess work. Why, in Shiva's name, were they on the run as though they were wanted criminals? Cloud wouldn't have followed them, would he? How would he know where to look? Where would Cloud start? Would Sephiroth ever be allowed back in Mideel again? What of Aerith?

His mind spinning, it was not a wonder Sephiroth didn't hear Aerith when she called out his name. In fact, Sephiroth didn't fall back into reality until he all but ran into her.

Snapping his attention to Aerith, Sephiroth gave her a questioning look. He reached for his pocket to retrieve his notebook, but she had already read his face; "I'm fine, you didn't hurt me. Now hush for a second."

Sephiroth's brows furrowed. It wasn't as though he was able to make much noise anyhow. What was he going to do? Mime until her ear drums popped? Surely he didn't drag his feet, and just what-

Acute, well trained military ears picked up on the echoing footsteps of two others walking the cave. He had to hand it to Aerith; for being a civilian, she would have surely made a fine candidate for soldier. Too bad she was primarily trained as a magic user.

"Hello? Is anyone up there?" The voice was deep, heavy, and crisp. There was no mistaking who it belonged to.

Pulling Aerith into a small alcove and pressing both of their bodies up against a wall, Sephiroth mentally cursed a strand of words together so terrible that it would have made a sailor's mother cry. 'Speak of the devil,' he chided himself.

"Hello?" Cloud's voice rang out again. He was near the alcove.

Sephiroth felt his heart skip a beat. He felt Aerith's body press against his further, as though she too were afraid of the blonde just outside.

"Cloud, are you sure you heard something?" The voice was clearly female.

Sephiroth sifted through a stack of mental notes. Back in Mideel, cloud had called the voice 'Tifa'.

"I thought I heard something." Cloud hesitated. "You saw the fire pit near the entrance, too: someone was here not too long ago. Maybe I heard them as they were leaving the cave, and it echoed in here."

The female voice sighed, though merely out of annoyance and not anger. "Well, that could be it. We should head to Fort Condor for the night anyway, right?"

Sephiroth could hear the blonde shuffle his feet. "Yea, I guess Fort Condor sounds like a good idea. Who knows- maybe he took her there, too."

The female voice retorted quickly with venom and irritation. "You don't know for a fact that he's keeping her hostage."

Cloud's voice grew as cold as the female's. "Why else would she travel with him, let alone stay under the same roof? The doctor in Mideel told us that they got along, didn't he? He's got her under some spell, I know it. How else could they have come back? It's Jenova all over again I tell you!"

"Cloud, if you had bothered to even listen to what the doctor really said, you wouldn't be assuming things like that. I mean, what if they aren't even who we are looking for?" Sephiroth distinctly heard the repetitive tap of a heavy combat boot on the gravel of the cave. "What if these people just happen to meet the same general description of Aerith an-"

"Teef," Cloud sighed. "I know you think this is all in my head. But think of it this way for just one second; what if this is the real deal? Aerith was last of the Cetra, after all, and until I figure out why the planet brought her back, I don't think I'll be able to rest. What if she needs our help? What if this isn't just a feeling?"

The silence that seemed to echo through the cave was one of the most uncomfortable, awkward pauses in a conversation that Sephiroth had ever heard. He could actually feel his heat beating in his ears as though he weren't listening in on his one time enemy but rather hearing some sort of television drama. Though he was still scared, Sephiroth was more anxious to hear what the Tifa woman was going to reply with. Was this truly how people interacted through normal conversation? Sephiroth, not ever having been one for common chit-chat, had never bothered to say more than what was needed. The conversation unraveling before him had his mind truly spinning. He had heard Aerith talk back in Mideel to many of the locals, of course, but he head heard trivial conversations regarding weather and how to cook cake. Never before had he heard such a heart-felt conversation in which he could almost feel the emotions of those talking.

"What if your feeling is wrong, Cloud?" Tifa's voice was hardly audible.

"But what, Tifa, if I'm right? Would you be able to rest at night knowing that Aerith died because we were unable to protect her? She died once and no one was able to protect her. I can't live with myself if that happens again."

Another sigh was heard, though it was less heavy and filled with new-found understanding, albeit a slight amount of annoyance. "Alright, Cloud. You win. We'll continue chasing whoever these people are. But I want you to promise me something." Another small pause in conversation, although extremely less awkward and uncomfortable. "If we don't find them, and nothing happens, we go home."

"Teef, you're an angel. I promise."

Two sets of footsteps echoed through the cave until finally dying off, less anxious and angry than when they had entered.

Sephiroth let out a tremendous sigh. Letting his body relax, he leaned against the cold of the cave wall. The dank stone pressed against Sephiroth's back cooled his skin. Carefully and slowly, he looked down at his traveling companion. After several moments of close observation Sephiroth was astounded to find that the flower girl was shaking. Gently bringing up a hand and placing it on her shoulder, Sephiroth attempted to see what was causing Aerith to fret so.

Startled by Sephiroth's touch, Aerith jumped. Sephiroth watched as she let out a sigh, and then shook her head while she forced a smile on her face. Looking up hopefully into the general's eyes, Aerith forced her fake smile to look sincere. Sephiroth, however, noted that she looked rather as though she were going to be ill. Fake smiles did not fit her in the least.

Raising a cautious eyebrow, Sephiroth poked deeper at Aerith. He had never before pushed her reasoning, but he could tell that their near encounter with Cloud had left her shaken.

Instead, however, of acknowledging the general's inquiry, it seemed to Sephiroth that Aerith ignored it.

She, in fact, had.

Sephiroth, not accustomed to being ignored, was unsure of how to take it. He decided that it would be best to remain silent over the matter, despite the fact that he could not speak; mind, he was thinking figuratively.

The two remained silent (though one of them didn't have much of a choice). Both carefully edged from the rock crevice they had managed to scoot into, though it seemed much smaller as they tired to squeeze out. It wasn't until the sun was shining down upon their faces and the Mythril Mines were behind them did Aerith break the silence.

"We can't go to Fort Condor, that much is certain. If Cloud is looking for us, we need to stay hidden."

Sephiroth nodded his head in agreement, refusing to meet Aerith's eyes. The ground wasn't interesting, however, and he the urge to look at her when she spoke purely from habit was nearly overwhelming.

"Junon, then?"

Again, Sephiroth nodded.

The sun was nearing the horizon. Without conveying any kind of kind of message to the other, both sped their pace; Junon was quite a ways father than Fort Condor, but it was something that could not be helped.


	27. Taken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 27: Taken

Sephiroth had known from the start that his conversation with Aerith wasn't going to end with either of them being happy. Had he not been such a stubborn man and she not a stubborn woman, neither would have come across such a dilemma. But because they were exactly who they were, the conversation was getting both nowhere and only serving to slightly aggravate the other. Retorting quickly with a snappy response was something Sephiroth was unable to do. However, his argument proved to be just as aggravating to the flower girl as her retorts were to him.

"It's not we like have a mission here, Sephiroth. I want to take some time to relax."

A scribbled message as a retort was presented to the flower girl who was quickly losing her patience. While the sarcasm wasn't vocalized, it was evident. 'I understand that, soldier- we, however, need to keep on the move. What if Cloud decided to come here to Junon instead of going to Fort Condor?'

Aerith huffed out an annoyed sigh. "There's a parade outside- even if he were here, do you honestly think we would run into one another?"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. 'Do you honestly want to take such a chance, Aerith?'

Crossing her arms across her chest and straightening her shoulders, Aerith raised her chin at Sephiroth. "And what if I do?"

Raising both of his eyebrows, Sephiroth sat back against his elbows. Never had Aerith been so difficult to deal with. In Sinva's name, no woman he had ever come across had been so difficult. Were all women such a pain to contend with, or was she a special exception?

"I am sick of you thinking I can't take care of myself, Sephiroth. I am far more capable than what you give me credit for."

Sephiroth made a move to grab his notebook and write a response, but Aerith stamped her foot and promptly startled the general momentarily out of his wits. Never had Aerith been so terse with him.

"I am sick of playing the helpless damsel, Sephiroth. I grew up in the slums and managed to keep myself going just fine. I don't need a man to protect me!"

Unable to fathom a single sentence to retort back to Aerith with, Sephiroth stood and took a step toward his small companion. Though he did not like to resort to intimidation, he was not afraid to use it. However, without hesitation, Aerith puffed out her chest and took a step toward Sephiroth. Not only was he taken by surprise at Aerith's bold move, but Sephiroth also felt a bit of his pride shatter. His being nearly a foot taller than she, and nearly two and a half times her size, Sephiroth though she would have backed off had he put his foot down.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Aerith's eyes flared up with a spark Sephiroth hadn't known possible. Immediately after he had watched her eyes blaze, Sephiroth knew he had done something he would soon come to regret.

"Don't try to intimidate me! What did you think I would do, Sephiroth? Retreat? Cower under you and plead forgiveness?"

Feeling Aerith's sharp finger jab into his rib, Sephiroth soon took his own retreat with a few small steps backward.

"If you had any sense at all you'd know that what you just did was no way to treat a woman!"

She was stepping toward him now, eyes ablaze with rage. Sephiroth felt the back of his shins hit the bed.

Why was this woman so damned difficult?

"I am going out to see the parade in town, whether you like it or not! If you're so worried about me, why don't you just wear a disguise and follow me, then?"

Not wasting a single breath after she finished speaking, Aerith turned on her heel and stormed out of the inn room. Taking a moment to gather himself, as well as pick up the small pieces of his dignity and pride that seemed to have fallen across the floor in tiny shards, Sephiroth bat backwards on his bed and let out a heavy sigh.

'Great Shiva, woman- when will you learn to just listen to me?' Burying his face in his hands, Sephiroth let out another sigh. Why was she so hard to deal with? Why was she so stubborn?

Pondering over his only possibilities, Sephiroth ran a list through his head.

He could wait the storm out and hope Aerith had forgiven him when she returned, but there was no guarantee that she would be safe in the streets of Junon all alone, especially with so many people out and about.

Thinking over what she had said, Sephiroth began to weight the option of just going with her, but that would mean she would have won the argument, and admitting such a thing wasn't something Sephiroth's pride was ready for just yet. It was still, albeit slowly, gluing itself back together, piece by piece, and would not yet give Aerith the satisfaction of letting her know she was right.

The only other option that came to mind was to follow her in disguise, and at least attempt to have a good time in her wake. If he knew she was safe, he wouldn't feel so anxious. Besides, perhaps getting a night on the town would be a little fun.

Shiva knew the man missed cake.

So, without thinking much more upon it, Sephiroth picked up one of Aerith's hair bands from the dresser corner where she had left them and upswept his hair into a low pony tail. After a quick glance in the mirror to ensure that his hair was in order, Sephiroth was out the door, down the stairs, and on his way to otherwise follow a young girl. Needless to say he felt slightly like a stalker, but he assured himself with the idea that he wasn't following her for any perverted reason and was simply making absolute certain she was going to be alright.

Now, it wasn't that Sephiroth didn't trust the girl's judgment. He knew, perhaps better than most, that Aerith was more than capable of taking care of herself, even in bad situations. It was everyone else, however, that worried the general. People were not to be trusted, especially in such a city as Junon. With sailors on shore leave and Shinra soldiers lurking in every dark bar corner, Sephiroth felt he was in the right to be so worried about the girl. Top the usual scum scrounging about the city with the kind that slithers out of their houses for partying occasions such as large parades and you had one nasty mix. Bar fights, street fights, sleazy women looking for sleazy men; it was no wonder Sephiroth hated the city with so much enthusiasm. After having lived in Mideel for so long, city life would be hard to become accustomed to once more.

Sephiroth snapped back to reality. A flash of pink alerted the general that Aerith was near by. His heartbeat increased, almost as if he were on some sort of hunt. Though his pony tail was not really a disguise, it did make Sephiroth feel slightly better about himself in the sense that it was as though no one else would recognize him. Aerith had, after all, been the one to suggest he take upon a disguise and follow her. Had she known that was what he was going to do?

Infernal girl and her mind games.

Relieved that the parade upon the streets of Junon was more of a carnival of sorts than anything, Sephiroth began to slowly let his guard down. After watching Aerith eat a strange breaded item on a stick with ketchup and mustard slathered upon the outside, he too began to hunger for some sort of sustenance. Cake, however, was something that was not sold in a stand, though he did take it upon himself to enjoy a large fluffy ball of pink, sugary feathery candy. The tender had called it cotton candy, and at first Sephiroth was rather weary over the idea of putting something in his mouth that resembled so closely the fabric upon his body. After watching several children ingest numerous bags of it, he decided to throw caution into the wind and take a bite.

It wasn't cake, but it wasn't bad.

Aerith was, as Sephiroth noted, fairly good at carnival games. In a small game where one was given a small paper net and asked by traditionally dressed booth tenders to catch small fish swimming in a shallow basin, Aerith seemed to be extremely skilled. A heard of children had gathered around her, for when she caught a fish she asked the tender to place it in a plastic bag and then would continue to hand the bag to a nearby child. The booth tenders didn't appear to be entirely pleased with the ordeal, but when Aerith kept providing them with money in exchange for fish they seemed to straighten their back and keep silent, though their smiles were tights.

Darkness had fallen upon the city some time before Sephiroth had bothered to take note. Due to the bright lights from the streets as well as those from the booths lining the sidewalk of the bay, the entire square had been illuminated to an almost irritating level. Sephiroth's eyes, though slightly used to the light, were still having trouble keeping track of Aerith though the thickening crowd. Bars were beginning to empty, considering happy hour was coming to a close, and children were becoming more rowdy and rambunctious due to vast amounts of sugar running through their systems.

Sephiroth's heart skipped a beat when he watched a young man approach the flower girl. He was handsome and strong, traits obvious merely by looking at him; but there danced around him a whirlwind of strange behavior. Though he was talking to Aerith, he refused to meet her eyes for very long. Just as well, the man was constantly looking over his shoulder. Sephiroth, trained well enough to hide himself, slouched slightly and etched nearer the flower girl and her strange companion.

"Come on- just one drink."

"Thank you, but no. I don't drink."

Immediately, Sephiroth didn't like where the conversation was going.

"But you're so beautiful. I couldn't possibly pass up an opportunity like this. Are you hungry at all? I could buy you a soda."

Sephiroth watched Aerith's shoulders slump. She was annoyed, and on the verge of giving in, which is something that Sephiroth feared. The man who wouldn't stop pestering her was no one to be trusted on any level.

"If I let you buy me a soda, will you leave me alone?"

It was terse for Aerith to say such a thing, but kindness would only win the woman so many awards. Though Sephiroth took pride in the flower girl standing up for herself and putting her foot down, he was also disappointed that she was giving in to such a creep.

And so a soda was ordered for the petite brunette, and just as Sephiroth feared he face paled slightly after she took a sip of her drink.

"You feelin' alright?"

Sephiroth cringed. Aerith had grown up on the streets, yet her willpower had giving in when she was merely being annoyed. What was she thinking?

Sephiroth began toward the booth, but the man had already swung his arm around Aerith and was beginning to tote her off.

"She alright, man?" Calls came through parts of the crowd.

The man merely laughed. "My lady here had too much to drink. Too much of a party for her to handle."

Laughing is what those around them were doing. No one bothered to look twice at Aerith's pale features and heavy eyes. Her head began to loll upon her shoulders.

Sephiroth's heart quickened as quickly as the feet beneath him. Navigating though the crowd was no easy task, even for the general, but it wasn't something that could be helped; he couldn't exactly point his finger and call out the man a liar and a kidnapper.

The man looped his arm around Aerith's stomach and hoisted her over his shoulder. Turning down a dark alley, the man was gone from public sight. Heart racing, Sephiroth was nearly at a full out run when he rounded the corner. What he saw upon taking the corner made his heart stop completely.

The alley was empty.

'Play it cool. Breathe. Look like you are meant to be here.'

Sephiroth tried to reassure himself as he began down the alley on his own, no sight of the flower girl anywhere, but his heart was pounding in his head and his chest was tight. Fear wasn't something the general enjoyed, though he doubted anyone did, and anything involving the emotion of fear along with the flower girl was anything but good news.

The walls aligning the alley were smooth and without doors, causing the general to fret even more. How had the damned man disappeared so quickly?

Nearing the end of the alley, Sephiroth observed a door. Pleased with his discovery, he slowed his step just a tiny bit, merely to be cautious. Doing so, however, paid off when the door suddenly swung open and a young boy was pitched from the frame.

"Get out of here, you little brat!"

Immediately, Sephiroth recognized the man at the door as the same who had carted Aerith off over his shoulder.

"I know you have my sister in there! Let her go!"

Sephiroth watched the exchange of words with mild interest. The boy looked to be no older than fourteen or fifteen, with a short mess of black hair on his head. He quickly got to his feet and puffed out his chest. "I said let her go!"

The man in the door spat on the doorway, smugly smiling and crossing his arms. "You!" he called, making a hand motion toward Sephiroth. "New guy! Take care of this kid!"

Sephiroth's heart quickened. He was being mistaken for a worker? The situation, though bad, was looking to get better with each passing moment. Not wanting to make the man suspect anything, Sephiroth didn't hesitate to pick the boy up by the back of his clothing and tote him back down the alleyway he had only just come up. The boy was squirming and yelling the entire way, but Sephiroth couldn't let his charade fail. When he heard the door close, Sephiroth picked up his pace and began toward the open end of the alley at a faster pace. When the street opened back up into the crowded festival area, Sephiroth put the boy down and immediately pulled out his notebook.

'If you give me any information you have, I'll help you best I can.'

The boy looked suspiciously at the notebook, then back at the general. His eyes were wide and wild, like a rabbit cornered by a dog.

Pulling back his notebook, Sephiroth made another scratched sentence. 'I am mute and can't talk. Do you want my help or not?'

The boy looked over his left shoulder, and then his right. "How do I know I can trust you? The doorman called you new guy."

'Something I can work to my advantage, boy. My comrade was kidnapped. I need to know everything you do.'

The boy, though not complexly convinced, squinted at Sephiroth through scrutinizing eyes. "I still don't know if I can trust you."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, attempting to deliver a point. 'They have your sister, right? Do you want her back or not?'

The boy's eyes relaxed slightly. He leaned closer to Sephiroth. "Young women have been disappearing from the docks all month. The trend is mostly with poor families, seeing as how it's harder to get police to the lower levels of Junon, but it's just speculation. No patterns, no targets, no nothing; girls will just randomly go out walking and then won't come home. My sister was on her way to the grocer yesterday morning when I saw the guy fro the door take her."

Sephiroth's blood ran cold. Female kidnappings could lead to only a certain amount of possibilities, none of them racing through Sephiroth's head pleasant.

'Do you know where the girls are taken?'

The boy shook his head. "Girls go in; crates go out and are loaded on separate boats heading out. I still don't know if I can trust you." The boy was glaring up at the general.

'It's a risk you are going to have to take to save your sister.'

The boy looked over his shoulders again, weary. "Look, I've been watching them all day and know what warehouse the crates head to before they are loaded up. If we hurry, we can get to the docks and hide before any of those thugs get there."

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. The boy was smart, that much had to be admitted. But would he prove to be trustworthy? Chances had to be taken, and they had to be taken quickly. Time wasn't exactly on their side. Nodding, Sephiroth motioned for the boy to lead the way.


	28. Hidden

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 28: Hidden

The boy with the attitude problem had informed Sephiroth that his name was Zahi, and that his sister had been kidnapped nearly two days before. While the child was dedicated, Sephiroth felt Zahi was being far too persistent in his thirst for any and all knowledge Sephiroth could offer. No, he didn't know where the girls were being taken. Yes, he had heard of such things before. No, nothing like this had ever happened to him. No, he couldn't tell for sure what was going to happen. Questions ran in circles and just when Sephiroth thought the boy had finally shut up for good, another inquiry jumped out at the man.

During such a grandiose parade earlier, security upon the docks had been far more pitiful than Sephiroth could remember. Granted that Junon dock guards weren't exactly overzealous to be working their given positions in the first place, yet who was Sephiroth to judge? He hadn't been granted the chore of working up the military ladder when he was part of Shinra. He had been lucky enough to soar to the top ranks with a mere flick of his wrist and twist of his sword.

Luckily enough, the information Zahi had provided had proved extremely useful. When he had told the general that he had observed the shady figures take large crates to the lower docks, he had been honest and true. It was nearly sunrise, however, before Sephiroth, or the boy, were able to actually snoop around.

The soft fall of breath, the steady beat of a heart; he thought he was imagining it, perhaps. Was he truly so eager to see the face of the flower girl? How he wished he hadn't been so terse with her when last they spoke.

It was a gut feeling, intuition if one preferred, that gripped Sephiroth and led him through the maze of crates stored at the far end of the lower dock he had been hiding in for hours, waiting for the last guard to take leave and wait on the upper level for his replacement.

"Keep it down." Zahi's voice was but a harsh whisper. Sephiroth shot the boy a look that bore the message 'hold your tongue or loose it.' Thankfully, the boy shut up and looked down at his feet, sheepishly.

Taking in another deep breath, Sephiroth inhaled the salty sea air that flooded the docks. He laid a single hand on the crate nearest him. With his mind clear, he could feel the life of another being inside the wood. The soft heartbeat reached out to him. Sephiroth removed his hand. The heartbeat had felt wrong. It was human, but it wasn't familiar. Sephiroth moved several paces and placed his hand upon the lid of another crate. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Zahi shuffle his feet with impatience, but Sephiroth knew the boy was making good use of his time and keeping watch so that the general wouldn't have to. The second crate was the same as the first; a soft heartbeat, a quiet song of life, but nothing familiar within.

A third crate was inspected the same was as the two before, but again nothing familiar came from the insides.

Finally, upon placing his hand on a fourth crate, Sephiroth's eyes shot open. He felt warm beat, even and gentle like the sea, and a calming song that reached up and out directly to him. Even in sleep it seemed that the flower girl knew him.

Though the crates that littered the docks were many, Sephiroth noticed that every single one was headed for the same destination; Wutai. A heavy sigh escaped his lips- what was to be done? He could very well just open the crate he knew Aerith to lay unconscious in, but what would happen to the boy? If Aerith found out that he had abandoned the boy simply to make sure she was safe, Sephiroth would be scolded like the world was ending and it was completely his fault.

An angry Aerith was something Sephiroth dreaded seeing again.

However, were he to simply open up the crates and let everyone free guards would surely catch them all again. Sephiroth couldn't be counted on to guard their safety. While he could fight, his blood-oath to Aerith was binding: were he to kill another human, both he and the flower girl would cease to exist once more.

Sephiroth saw only one option.

Taking Masamune only partway from its sheath, Sephiroth made several indentations on the corner of the box he knew Aerith to be unconscious in. Masamune went back into its sheath, and Sephiroth motioned for Zahi to follow close behind. Stealing a label off of a crate he was passing by, Sephiroth was followed to the back of the docks where several empty crates had caught his eye within the numerous hours he and Zahi had hid upon the docks. Pointing a finger and giving no other look than extreme discontent, Sephiroth silently instructed Zahi into the crate. Pulling the lid and latching it securely in after he too was inside, Sephiroth took a deep breath and leaned against the inside of the crate.

The lengths of chocobo shit he would go through for the flower girl.

"Are you sure we should do this?"

Sephiroth couldn't very well answer the boy- the crate was dark, and his voice was gone. Several moments of silence went by and the general heard Zahi shift.

"Thank you."

Gratitude was met with silence. What had Sephiroth to offer other than that?

'We'll save Aerith, and get your sister back.' Though he couldn't voice his thoughts, Sephiroth still meant every word.


	29. Conspire

Before I tell you what happens to Aerith and Sephiroth, and of course Zahi and his sister, I would like to take the time to thank all of you who read and review my story. I don't think you realize how much it means to me to have someone leave me a message informing me how much they like my story, or someone guessing what might happen next, or even a simple note demanding I hurry up with the next chapter! Your words are what keep me writing!

I love you all, no joke.

And special thanks to my darling Tishannia, who especially deserves a cookie (because I say so! Go read her fan fiction!!!)

GET ON WITH IT!

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 29: Conspire

Hunger wasn't something that had troubled Sephiroth. It did seem to, however, trouble the boy Sephiroth shared the small crate with. Though Zahi said nothing while confined in the crate, Sephiroth could feel his discomfort. He could, in fact, hear the boy's stomach growl.

Fishing in his pocket, Sephiroth managed to find a small bar of chocolate in which he pressed against the boy in the dark. Zahi, apparently assuming that it was food right away, tore at the wrapper and consumed the bar in what Sephiroth could have only guessed was three bites.

It wouldn't be much longer, however, before they reached port. Common logic told Sephiroth this. The girls in the crates had been drugged, but even unconscious the body of a human still craves nourishment. Too long in sleep and the girls would begin to wither away and become sick.

Though he had worked that much out in his head, Sephiroth was stuck with a problem; he had only begun to contemplate getting out of the crates when they reached port. It wasn't as though he and Zahi could jump out of their box, shout "surprise!" and begin attacking the dock guards left and right. Despite lacking an escape plan, however, Sephiroth tired to close his eyes and let the gentle rocking of the boat lull him to sleep. What was meant to be done would be done, even though Sephiroth hadn't the slightest idea what it was. He quietly hoped that an idea or a solution would present itself in his dreams, but before he could do more than relax slightly and ready his body for a slight nap the boat give a jerking lurch and came to a slow stop.

Though most was quiet around the boat, Sephiroth could still hear the scuffling of feet on the floors above.

"How are we going to get out?" Zahi's voice was so quiet Sephiroth nearly tuned it out with the waves of the sea outside. Reaching out a hand and placing it upon the boy's head, Sephiroth tired to quietly reassure him that everything would be alright. The general, however, never was able to figure out if Zahi had taken the gesture to heart; the cargo hold doors swung open and a loud clattering echoed through the freight room of the boat.

Sephiroth tuned everything out and concentrated on who, or what, was coming. Based off floor vibrations and the steady sounds of rubber meeting metal, Sephiroth was able to rightly guess that only two guards were present.

"Do we have to unload all these damn boxes right now?"

"The boat is early- we just have to count them and make sure they are all here. Dock two has to unload them later; we are just checking to see that everything is in order."

"Hey, want to go catch a drink down at Turtle's Paradise after our shift is over?"

"Sounds good."

A sly idea popped into Sephiroth head, an idea in which he quickly stored away for future use. Getting out of the damned crate was his first necessity.

"Eight in this room, twelve in the next. Twenty in total. Looks like we can report this in, then head to the bar. When does the second dock unload these damn things?"

"Um, last time I heard they were running late. It's going to be at least another hour or two."

"Damn idiots. Boss is going to be mad he has to pay them overtime because they can't get their asses together and get their damn jobs done."

The conversation Sephiroth was eavesdropping on left him relieved at heart. It seemed that lady luck, the fickle mistress she was, decided to smile upon the general and cut him a short break. When the cargo doors were shut again and the boat rocked in silence, waves hitting metal the only noise that ruined the quiet, Sephiroth slowly shifted his weight in the crate. Reaching out a hand and placing it on Zahi's head, he quietly instructed the boy to lower his body. Zahi did as he was bade and lowered his head and pressed his body against the side of the crate, apparently knowing full well what Sephiroth was about to do.

Kneeling inside the crate, Sephiroth readied himself. With one great push of his legs his back collided with the wooden lid of the crate. His eyes, so accustomed to the dark, began to water profusely when the sun peeked through the edges of the open crate and lit the inside. Kneeling down once again, Sephiroth forced his legs upward in another motion. This time, however, the entire lid came off and he and Zahi were at last free.

His eyes, still watering abundantly, squinted against the bright light of the early morning sun. Though his vision remained blurry, Sephiroth noticed Zahi rubbing his eyes in an attempt to ease the soreness. Sephiroth's eyes adjusted far quicker than that of the boys, but that was to be expected- his body was used to far worse circumstances that a simple change of light. He, however, still waited for Zahi to regain full and proper usage of his eyes. In order to sneak off the boat, they both needed to be alert in all senses.

Tugging at Zahi's shoulder, Sephiroth bid him to follow. Together, the two sank into the shadows of the boat. Sephiroth was lucky, it seemed, to have been paired with Zahi as a companion. The boy seemed no stranger to the art of stealth, and nearly matched Sephiroth's own ninja-like movements in and out of shadows. The general would have to ask the boy where he learned such skills once their ordeal was over with and the flower girl was freed.

First thing, however, was first. Sneaking off the ship hadn't proved to be as terrible of a chore as Sephiroth had first assumed it might have been. Guards, due to the early morning shift he supposed, were either sleeping on the job, or not there at all. Not a single man proved to be a challenge to pass, but what was to be expected of low-paid dock guards and kidnappers?

Once off the boat and far enough away from the dock to not be seen, Zahi and Sephiroth emerged from the shadows and melted in with the hustle and bustle of the early morning market of Wutai. The already hot sun beat down upon the face of the general, though he tired to keep his head down and his appearance hidden.

They needed to find a clothing shop, and fast.

Sephiroth, since losing his voice, had taken in observing what people did and what they wore. Not being able to talk left quiet a bit of free time on his hands, what with Aerith always chatting with the people of the markets of Mideel, and he had to occupy it with something. Though he would never admit it out loud, Sephiroth on more than one occasion would flip through one of the many gossip and fashion magazines Aerith would leave on the counter of the kitchen back in their cottage. Though he never bothered himself with any of the articles, he would simply skim over what people were wearing and what part of the world they were in. It was honestly something that should have been taught in military academy.

Not fashion of course, but rather the importance of fitting in while on a mission.

Still garbed in simple dark denim jeans and a black shirt, Sephiroth's appearance simply screamed tourist. Take in the fact that he was also over six feet tall with long silver hair and a giant katana resting upon his hip, Sephiroth stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the masses of Wutianese locals and tourists alike. It seemed that even the occasional sightseer was giving him a look up and down.

Zahi close at his heels, Sephiroth entered one of the local shops.

Wutainese styled dresses and accessories lined the walls of the store. Trinkets for hair and strange souvenirs littered the counter at the front of the shop, while the racks of clothing took up the floor.

An elderly looking woman bowed deeply in greeting, a fake smile plastered to her aging features. "Welcome, welcome! What can I do for you this fine day?"

Zahi spoke up without hesitation, knowing full well Sephiroth would not answer the woman. "Just browsing, thanks." Zahi took off in one direction of the store, pretending to brows several racks of clothing.

"Well, if there is anything at all I can help you with please do not hesitate to ask." The woman bowed again and shuffled her way to the counter near the back of the store.

Sephiroth, too, pretended to browse several racks of clothing before a gruff voice called out from back counter. Sephiroth glanced up to watch the woman at the counter bark back something in Wutainese through the curtain behind her. Another call from behind the back curtain was bellowed, and the woman answered again in Wutainese. Luckily enough, Sephiroth knew enough Wutainese to be able to pick up large pieces of the conversation.

"What do you want?"

"Hey! There's something else on the news about the girls disappearing from the pub again. Make sure to tell Maki not to go out after midnight! She's so pretty, they'll snatch her right up!"

"Maki knows better than to go where she is not safe. Any reports of findings? They need to catch whoever is taking those girls! It could be a killer!"

Forcing himself out of the conversation and back to reality, knowing full well that he if continued to daydream his flower girl was likely to be lost forever, Sephiroth watched as the elderly women once more disappeared behind the counter. For the split second the curtain was opened, he could see the flashing lights of the television brighten the room though he could not hear the telecaster's report.

Sephiroth formulated an idea in his head.

Taking his chance, Sephiroth neared Zahi and handed him his notebook. While pretending to browse, Sephiroth had cleverly written a note where the woman couldn't have seen him do such an action.

Zahi took the notebook and wandered off away from the general just in time for the woman to return from behind the curtain. "Finding everything alright, dears?"

Sephiroth nodded absentmindedly, pretending to be interested in a shirt he had picked off a random rack.

"Just let me know if you need anything." She, once again, disappeared into the back.

Zahi, with an extremely aggravated expression upon his face, literally threw Sephiroth's notebook back at him. Had Sephiroth not trained nearly two decades of he might have fumbled the notebook. However, with once swift, fluid-like motion of his arm Sephiroth caught the notebook and gave Zahi a blank stare, as if challenging him to throw something else his way. Zahi's ears flamed pink in color and he slunk back to browsing through clothing once more, trying his best to force his ears back to their normal color all the while ignoring Sephiroth.

Looking down at his notebook, Sephiroth re-read his own message.

'I have a bad feeling the women are being sold as slaves for purposes most dishonorable, but in order to free them I will need your cooperation to the fullest. We cannot screw this up else we will never see either your sister or my companion again.'

Zahi's handwriting proved slightly difficult to decipher, but Sephiroth was able to read it after a few moments of looking the note over carefully.

'Grownups are disgusting. Tell me what I need to do.'

Smiling just slightly, Sephiroth realized that Zahi was not angry over Sephiroth's demand for perfection of a plan that he had yet to hear. The boy was angry that someone might touch his sister in a way most disgusting. While Sephiroth had never witnessed the two siblings together, he had a feeling that both were extremely close. It seemed that she was all Zahi had, much like Aerith was all Sephiroth had, which meant that both of them were willing to do whatever they would need to in order to free them.

Sephiroth wrote another message and passed it again to the boy before the woman returned to the front counter.

'Purchase a kimono from the woman at the counter with the measurements I have written below. Also buy a set of straw sandals, a hair ribbon, and face and eye makeup. If the woman asks anything, tell her it is for your large mother who is sick from a boat ride and cannot make it. Make it up as you go along, I don't care- just make sure she believes you.'

One of Zahi's eyebrows was raised, but he didn't look to the general for an answer. He merely sauntered up to the counter and smiled sweetly to the elderly woman.

"I think I need your help after all. See, my mom is sick back in our hotel room, and she wanted me to get her some things so she can bring back with her. I've got her measurements right here."

The woman smiled as Zahi relayed the numbers, though one of her eyebrows raised slightly.

"Your mother seems to be very tall, young man. Are you sure you wrote that down right?"

Zahi scratched the back of his head and smiled. "My mom's really tall, but my sister is even taller. All of the girls in my family are."

The woman, again, smiled. "Well, I suppose it's not something we ourselves choose. If you'll follow me to the other side of the store, I'll help you pick out all you need."

Sephiroth smiled. Though he was not particularly fond of the idea he had concocted, he had thought of no other way.


	30. Disguise

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 30: Disguise

Sephiroth didn't like his plan from the start, but could think of no better way than to get himself inside the ring of kidnappings than to get kidnapped himself. Though Zahi was smaller and more petite than he was, Sephiroth felt as though putting the boy in harms way was the last thing he could do. Besides; were Aerith to find out he had put someone as innocent as Zahi in harms way she would kill him.

Or at least be extremely disappointed with him, which was just as terrible of a punishment, if not worse.

Getting kidnapped, however, involved cross-dressing.

Sephiroth was not thrilled.

In fact he was giving himself a liberal inner beating. Questioning his masculinity thoroughly as Zahi tied the knot of the classical Wutain womens garment, Sephiroth felt both ashamed and pleased with himself as he looked in the mirror. Though he was over six feet in height and had had rather broad shoulders for a man, he was secretly admiring himself in the mirror. Now, not to mix up fact with assumption, Sephiroth was simply pleased he could pass for a woman with a rather average amount of make up and two grapefruits pressed against his chest. It wasn't something, however, he would be willing to do again.

Ever again.

The general watched as Zahi took a step back to admire the work he had finished. "Well, you're not a babe, but a drunk man would be willing to take you home."

Sephiroth wasn't sure if he should be insulted and take offend, or assume the boy was complimenting him. He decided that the latter would take less effort.

Passing his notebook to Zahi, Sephiroth waited for a reaction from the boy.

'This isn't going to be easy. I'll need you to stay out of trouble. Promise you won't follow me.'

Zahi's face scrunched up most unpleasantly, and Sephiroth knew he had an argument on his hands. Thrusting the notebook back to Sephiroth, Zahi shook his head. "Look, you can't do this alone."

Scribbling almost franticly, Sephiroth attempted to set a stern look across his face.

'I am not asking you to stay here. I am telling you. What if you get caught sneaking about? You won't get as lucky as you did back in Junon and merely get tossed out a door. You could get killed. I know what I am doing.'

Zahi stomped his foot in a childish manner, his eyes brimming with tears. "They have my sister in there, dammit!"

Shaking his head, Sephiroth placed his hand on Zahi's head in a silent gesture of comfort. He took up his notebook and again wrote what his voice could not tell.

'I, too, have someone precious to me that was stolen. But the problem herein lies not with you, Zahi, but what these men are capable of. They steal away sisters and friends alike. Do you honestly think they'd think twice about killing you on the spot? Then what would you sister do? Who would she look forward to seeing when she is free?'

Watching as Zahi bit his lip to keep from crying, Sephiroth tired to level his temper. The boy was not easy to deal with, albeit a tad easier than Aerith, but nonetheless was still trying his patience.

"What is she to you, anyway?"

Taken by surprise, Sephiroth let his facial mask slip for a fraction of a second. Zahi, however, had noticed when he had glanced up at the general and was, too, taken by surprise. Cocking an eyebrow, Zahi wiped away a tear that was almost shed as he gazed up at the man in women's clothing before him.

'Precious to me, in the least. Aerith is life.'

Zahi would never understand how truthful Sephiroth's words really were. Closing his eyes for a mere second, the general took himself back to when he had made his blood pact with Aerith, after she had purged his body of all remaining Jenova cells. Though he had to promise never to kill again else they would both die, Sephiroth knew that Aerith had been given the short end of the stick as far as their deal was concerned.

She had, after all, given up her birth right of the promised land simply so they could walk amongst the living once again. Aerith couldn't have known that Sephiroth would have agreed in the long run, either. He could have killed someone the second they returned to the planet's surface, then she would have really been screwed. Yet she trusted him when no one else would ever think to.

Aerith had given him a second chance at living when those in his previous life hardly gave him a meaning in the first place. Hojo had been anything but a father, and his mother Sephiroth knew little of. She was human, that much was now for certain, but her name? Her birthday? He knew nothing of who she was.

"Aerith. That's a pretty name. She must really be something if you're willing to cross dress to save her." Zahi's comment was spoken without manners or a second thought, yet it earned a small tug of a smile at the corner of the general's lips.

'You have no idea.'

Sighing heavily, Zahi rolled his eyes despite the fact that they were still slightly puffy from a few minutes before. "I guess I'll have to stay here. I mean, I love my sister and all, but cross dressing? I'll pass."

Sephiroth caught the wink that Zahi threw his way and knew instantly that the boy was masking his sorrow with sarcasm. It would, at least, hide the pain. Sephiroth allowed a small smile to befall his lips. Placing his hand on Zahi's head once again, the general offered the boy silent comfort.

'I won't come back until I have every last one of those bastards on the floor in tears.'

A smile flooded Zahi's face. "Give 'em a good one, right in the kisser, for me alright? Don't let a single one of them escape. Rescue my sister, and this Aerith girl."

Sephiroth nodded and walked out of the inn room and into the night air. "Walk a little nicer!" Zahi's voice was audible despite the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Shaking his head, Sephiroth attempted to walk. His newly acquired garments, however proved to be fighting him.

How did women walk in these blasted things, let alone enjoy them?

The paradox of the female mind would have to wait until another day, Sephiroth decided. Trying his best not to trip, the general dressed in drag slowly made his way across one of the many wooden bridges that made up Wutai's central pathways.

First stop? Turtle's Paradise, of course.


	31. Infiltrate

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 31: Infiltrate

In the span of ten minutes, Sephiroth's overall respect for women had increased twenty fold. No sooner had he walked across the first bridge of Wutai's central pathway and the feral stares began. Cat-calls were issued from men too drunk to stand straight. Walking in the garment was no easier, the general was to add.

In short, Sephiroth was miserable.

Entering Turtle's Paradise had been the easy part. Shaking his hips and attempting to be kidnapped whist all the while trying to ignore the fearsome rage building up inside of him due to the disgusting calls and whistles from drunken men all around proved to be slightly more difficult. Situating himself near the door, Sephiroth sat on a bar stool trying his best to ignore the hungry stares of intoxicated men from all around.

He felt like a piece of meat. Perhaps he shouldn't have waited until so late at night to enter the bar; it seemed everyone was already drunk.

The bartender, apparently immune to the commotion in the bar, nodded to Sephiroth and asked if he would like a beer. Thankful that the man behind the counter perpetually shining a shot glass had not asked him what kind and merely set some local brand upon the counter, Sephiroth attempted to appear delicate in taking a sip of his drink.

Just when his nerves began to relax slightly, several people barged through the bar door causing quite a commotion. Sephiroth looked over to see none other than Reno and Rude of the Turks, the latter supporting the first under an arm.

Dear Ramah, whatever divinity watching over Sephiroth was giggling with malicious intent and delight.

Thankfully, however, Reno was already plastered. Sephiroth remembered the weak drunk could never hold down much before beginning to stumble about. Several holiday parties back at the Shinra headquarters in Midgar had told him this. Those several occasions had made Sephiroth very glad he was not a janitor.

'Oh, screw it all to hell,' were the words rushing through Sephiroth's head as he watched Reno stumble to the open bar seat next to him.

"Best damn tequila you've got!" Despite the three feet that separated the two individuals, Sephiroth could already smell the reek of hard liquor on Reno's breath.

Sephiroth froze when Reno smiled and turned to him. "Hey there, sweetie. Wanna know –hic- what's it's like to –hic- kiss a Turk?"

Sephiroth forced a small smile on his lips before turning his head a different direction, feigning shyness while unbeknownst to Reno hiding his gag reflex. 'I think I'm going to vomit. Profusely.' His mind was racing with all kinds of ways to torture the Turk if he ever got the damn redhead alone.

"My friend's a little drunk. Sorry." Sephiroth glanced up and made eye contact with Rude. While never having been properly introduced, Sephiroth knew the Turk to be of the silent type. The fact that he had said anything, much less offered up an apology, greatly surprised the general and earned the bald man a slight nod.

"But he is right. You're a cutie."

Sephiroth fought the urge to roll his eyes. Both of them were drunk off their asses, Rude just had a sense of dignity while hammered.

If not for the promise never to kill again he had made to Aerith before they had come back to the land of the living, Sephiroth would have murdered both of them on the spot without so much as a second of thought.

"Are these idiots bugging you?" A gentle hand was placed on Sephiroth's shoulder. Biting his lip in an attempt not to remove the hand resting on his shoulder in a most bloody and brutal way, Sephiroth turned and met the eyes of a tall man who seemed to be the only one not completely smashed within the four walls of the bar (besides himself, of course, but then again he _was_ dressed as a woman).

"Hey, man, I'm –hic- just trying to get lucky." Reno downed a shot of tequila.

"I hear they are offering free drinks down at Samosa's. Why don't you gents go see?" The speaker's hand was still on Sephiroth's shoulder. The general was still battling himself over whether or not he should simply bite off the man's unwelcome hand.

Reno threw the empty shot glass over his shoulder and attempted to stand up. The only result gained, however, was a broken glass and the redhead's face promptly meeting the floor. Rude looked down to his fallen comrade and let out a sort of short chuckle, then bent down to help the drunkard up. The two stumbled to the door, Reno attempting to put one leg in front of the other by himself and failing miserably.

Lightweight.

Sephiroth, while still not comfortable with the stranger's hand on his shoulder, felt a small amount of gratitude toward the man. He had, after all, gotten rid of a possible large problem for Sephiroth. The general prayed that the copious amounts of drink the two Turks had consumed would prove enough to keep them sleeping, or at least stuck in bed with hangovers, the next morning long enough for he and Aerith to escape. Cloud was enough of a problem- he didn't need the Turks on his heels as well.

Taking the now empty seat next to Sephiroth, the stranger situated himself in such a way that made the white-haired cross-dressing man extremely uncomfortable (not that he wasn't there already, wearing a dress, make up, and whatnot). Bowing his head in an attempt to look shy, Sephiroth avoided eye-contact at all costs.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Bastard.

Sephiroth balled his fists in his lap to keep from punching the man full in the face. Those were the words that sleaze-ball back in Junon had used to take Aerith from him. Did these guys have no creativity?

Still avoiding eye-contact in an attempt to look demure and submissive, though his real intention was not to allow the man a glimpse at the anger Sephiroth could feel building in his face, he nodded.

A glass was delivered and instantly Sephiroth knew the bartender was in on the entire conspiracy as well. Any normal person looking at the glass full of fizzing alcohol would see nothing wrong with it: cherry-colored liquid; sugar around the rim; small bubbles gathering around the edges; a small slice of lemon with a miniature colored paper umbrella ordaining the side. It was a house special, but nothing too special.

To anyone with untrained eyes, that is.

Sephiroth, by all means, was no normal man, and his eyes were sharp and trained to notice all they could in the shortest amount of time. One glance at the oddly shaped drink glass and Sephiroth instantly knew something had been put into it, most likely the same thing that had been put into Aerith's drink back in Junon.

Sephiroth hesitated for a moment.

If he blatantly refused the drink and took the man by the throat, surely a good portion of the bar would see through his farce and jump him in order to subdue him and keep their plot hidden.

If, however, he took the drink it would mean losing consciousness. If some disgusting idiot tried to feel him up while he was out, or something just as gross along those lines, he would be shit out of luck and either killed, or kept (you never know those kinky bastards and what they'd be willing to do for a quick gil).

Sephiroth, not having much choice in the matter (he, after all, was on a mission infiltrate the kidnapping headquarters), took a sip of the sugary alcoholic concoction and immediately began to feel the aftereffect of whatever had been slipped into it by the bartender.

The dosage used, however, seemed to be for a small woman.

Sephiroth was neither small, nor a woman (though his state of dress might argue otherwise). The only thing the drink did was make him slightly woozy.

Thank Shiva. Now all Sephiroth had to do was fall over and pretend to be unconscious. This, however, proved to be more difficult than first anticipated considering the two grapefruits pressed against his chest, pretending to be breasts. He would never look at the fruit the same way after having it down his top, that much was for certain.

Hearing the stranger call for help from the bartender, Sephiroth kept his eyes closed and tried to look asleep.

"What is this woman made of?" Sephiroth recognized the bartender's voice near his head; he was the one grabbing his wrists, meaning that by default the stranger was holding his feet and trying not to drop him.

"I don't care what she's made of, so long as the boss likes it."

Resisting the urge to vomit, Sephiroth struggled to keep still enough to allow the two men to keep thinking he was sleeping. Fearing they would see him were he to try to see, the general kept his eyes closed and was thusly not awarded with the knowledge of where he was being taken. All that really mattered, however, was that his flower girl remained safe.

It was some time before Sephiroth was placed on the floor. The cool wooden surface felt good against his sore back, considering he had been hoisted by his ankles and wrists and transported in a most uncomfortable manner by a pair of lunk-headed gorillas. Soon after his back had met the wood's surface, the general was forced to stay still and silent as he felt one of the men tie his hands together. Suddenly, the two men began to walk away and all grew quiet.

Slowly, Sephiroth cracked an eye open. The room was dark, but moonlight was filtering through tiny cracks in the window coverings. The moon, thankfully, was full, and despite the shades covering the barred window, just enough light seeped though the tiny holes to allow Sephiroth's eyes to quickly adjust.

Several bodies were lying, tied, upon the floor near him. One in particular was shaking. Sephiroth instantly felt a pang in his chest upon seeing the slender figure tremble so. Though he knew her to be awake, she was most likely too frightened to do much of anything aside from stay quiet and quake in fear.

Pushing all else from his mind, Sephiroth cleared his thoughts in an attempt to search for Aerith's life force, just as he had done back on the docks at Junon. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. The building was huge, that much Sephiroth had gathered when he had closed his eyes and begun his search, but just how immense it truly was had Sephiroth exhausted after searching for such a long time. Dawn had long past and despite the general keeping his eyes closed all the while searching for Aerith, he could feel the warm rays of the sun filter though the shades over the window as well as hear some of the girls in the room stir and begin to wake. Their overwhelming fear upon awaking, however, threw Sephiroth's senses off balance making it harder and harder to search for Aerith within his mind.

Suddenly, a very sharp almost prickle-like feeling erupted at the back of Sephiroth's skull. Aerith was calling out to him, and he was getting it loud and clear. Opening his eyes, he gasped as an even sharper pain clawed at the back of his brain; Aerith scared, and Sephiroth began to know what true fear really was.

One of the girls in the room, however, noticed Sephiroth's supposed waking and realization of where they were. Rolling over, Sephiroth was met face to face with the young woman. Her hair was dark, like charcoal, and it spilled over her face like a curtain of midnight. Her eyes matched her hair in dark color, though her skin was only mildly tan. It was evident to Sephiroth that she had been crying, despite the determined look on her face. Though he had never seen her before in his life, he knew at once exactly who she was; Zahi's sister.

Sephiroth attempt to set a look upon his face that would convey what he otherwise could not; 'everything will be okay.' The girl squinted her eyes, apparently realizing almost instantly that Sephiroth wasn't, in fact, a woman, she merely nodded silently.

The door swung open suddenly, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. "Alright, ladies; get up! We don't have all damn day! The boss wants to take his pick of the litter, and who knows what the future holds for the rest of you!" The statement was followed by the disgusting laugh of several other men who filtered into the room after the disturbed man who had opened the door. Several women in the room began wailing in despair, crying in vein out to gods who had appeared to have abandoned them.

The henchmen forced woman after woman to stand, Sephiroth included, and promptly untied their legs and feet so as everyone could walk properly. The ropes and chains around their wrists, however, were tightened to an almost painful level, forcing compliance were anyone to tug on the loose end hanging down. A simple knot it was, however, and Sephiroth knew just the trick to loosen it now that he could see properly. It wasn't, however, the right time, and so he kept his head down and pretended submission. He, after all, still had to locate Aerith. He knew that she was inside the establishment; where, however, was a different story.

The young women, Sephiroth in tow, were marched down a long, ornate hallway and into what seemed to be a gigantic ballroom. Women and henchmen alike littered the far walls, the girls still in chains and the men sneering and acting as a beast would when presented with a chance to play with its dinner.

Sephiroth kept his head down. During the night the men had been drunk enough to mistake him for a woman. Sephiroth was beginning to fear for the worst now that the vast majority of them seemed to be sober (or at the very least slightly less drunk). Masamune was safely locked back in the hotel room with Zahi, though fighting wouldn't do much good in such a cramped environment anyway; one swing of the gigantic blade and half of the heads in the room would have been rolling about on the floor.

The same sleazy voice that had ordered the girls up shouted new directions. "Alright ladies, line up!"

And so Sephiroth knew what it was like to be a piece of meat on sale.

He was humiliated and refused to look up.

That is, until he heard a familiar voice.

"Let me go, you deranged freak! Don't touch me!"

Sephiroth looked up to see Aerith in chains just as he was, struggling against the grip of a rather portly man with a hungry look strewn across his face. The man looked down at Aerith as if she were some kind of dessert, simply waiting to be snatched up and devoured. He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, grabbing Aerith's cheeks and forcing her face towards his own.

"Just a little kiss, sweetie?"

Aerith, never one to sit still and play nice as Sephiroth had noticed, spat directly in the face of the disgusting pig; an effort, unfortunately, which was rewarded with a slap on the face carrying enough force to send her to the floor.

It was in that action in which Sephiroth completely lost it.

Tearing at the knot that bound his wrists, Sephiroth ripped apart the rope that bound his wrists together and with one swift motion plucked the disgusting bastard who had dared to hit his flower girl up by his throat. Everyone in the room gasped and stood still as the man pawed at the general's grasp.

Just as stunned as the rest of the occupants of the room were, Aerith simply stared for several moments before common sense hit her square in the face and realization lit up her eyes. "Sephiroth, no! You can't kill him!"

Tearing his searing gaze from the pig-man squealing in his grip, Sephiroth set his blazing eyes on Aerith. For the first time since he had been in her company, he watched her flinch when their eyes met.

Yet, she was right. If he killed the man wiggling manically in his grip, he and Aerith would both die. It was the pact he had agreed to when she had saved him; he was not to kill another human.

Slowly, Sephiroth loosened his grasp and set the man upon his feet, though he didn't completely let go. He nodded to Aerith, and she seemed to get the gist of what he was trying to say and instead conveyed the message for him. "Every girl taken is to be released." Her voice was cold and distant, their eyes still connected.

No one protested, for no one in the room had time to; the doors Sephiroth had only minutes before been marched through were kicked open and in stormed none other than the two drunk Turks he had met at the bar the night before, Reno and Rude.

"Everyone, hands up!" Reno's voice was harsh and scratchy, most likely due to a hangover he was obviously suffering from; his eyes were slightly bloodshot and dark circles underneath only emphasized it. Sephiroth's attention immediately snapped to the two Turks in the doorway. His eyes instantly met Reno's and for a mere second Sephiroth watched as the wheels slowly turned inside the red-haired man's head.

"You!" Reno's shout echoed through the ballroom.

Another realization dawned upon the Turk as he looked at just what the silver-haired man was wearing. Sephiroth watched as memories from the night before forced themselves to the front of Reno's brain.

"Oh, Shiva! YOU!"

It was apparent that Reno had just realized who exactly it was he had hit on in Turtle's Paradise the night before. In fact, the horror that was instilled in him upon realization that he had tried to 'get lucky' with the man who had tried to destroy all life on the planet only to rebuild it in his own image was apparent on the redhead's face.

Rude took a few steps back and shouted over his shoulder down the hallway. "Cloud! Get down here, now!"

That was enough for Sephiroth. Throwing the portly man to the side, Sephiroth hoisted Aerith over his shoulder, kicked his high-heeled shoes off, and took off at a dead run toward the nearest window all in a span of several nanoseconds.

Reno's voice wasn't discernible from the massive amount of screaming that erupted from the dozens of women in the ballroom Sephiroth had just leapt from, but the general knew that the Turk was telling Cloud exactly what had happened and who he saw.

Several bridges and sets of stairs and Sephiroth found himself an unlocked door. Without giving a second thought to it, he tossed Aerith over the side of a couch, inwardly cringing when he heard her bottom hit the hardwood floor with a loud smack. He had, however, more important things to worry about than the rear-end of his companion and thusly proceeded to punch the glass out of the back window of the house. Then, without missing a beat, Sephiroth turned and ran to the couch he had deposited Aerith behind.

He, however, hadn't anticipated her to stand so quickly and smacked into her. She grabbed at his front as to stop herself from falling, but Sephiroth was already off balance and the only thing the two of them managed was to land in an extremely awkward position on the floor, the general supporting his weight over the flower girl with his elbows while she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

They, however, didn't have time to blush or act embarrassed as it was none other than Cloud who stumbled into the room only moments after the two had fallen upon the floor in the cramped space behind the couch. A strand of curses could be heard slipping past the blonde's lips that would more likely than not make a grown man cringe. Sephiroth could feel Aertih do just that beneath him.

Aerith's eyes widened under Sephiroth's gaze. He watched her slowly turn her head and peek under the couch. Slowly and without a sound, Sephiroth pressed his cheek against the flower girl's and watched with eager anticipation the boots that belonged to Cloud race eagerly and anxiously to the window the general had punched out earlier.

Several sets of shoes quickly filed into the room moment after Cloud, causing the floor to vibrate beneath the two hidden well behind the couch. Sephiroth watched as Cloud's feet crunched over the glass that littered the floor on the opposite side of the room. It seemed that the general had succeed in making Cloud think he had escaped out of the back window.

Sephiroth could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears when Cloud began to speak to those in the room. "Reno, Rude; tell me exactly what happened. Now."

The two behind the couch watched the redhead's feet shift uncomfortably. "It was definitely Sephiroth."

"Reno. What. Happened. Tell me everything, from the beginning."

Rude took several steps toward the blond swordsman. "Reno and I were out drinking last night. He got a little tipsy and while we were over at Turtle's Paradise he hit on some amazon chick sitting at the bar. Nothing happened, some guy bought her a drink and we left for Samsoa's Bar. Something about free drinks."

Reno took over. "Hangover all night. Morning comes, we get our mission to infiltrate this place; we've been getting inside reports about a slavery ring here in Wutai for months now. Hell, what I am telling you for? The boss was the one who filled you in on everything and asked you to help us stop this trashy place. Anyway, when we all split up back there a the entrance, Rude and I went into the ballroom and right as we bust open the doors I see Sephiroth holding the ringleader by the throat and that Ancient chick at his feet begging him to stop."

"You are SURE it was Sephrioth and Aerith?" It was that woman, Tifa, who spoke.

Both Reno and Rude were silent for a moment. It was Rude who broke the quiet. "You don't forget looking into Mako eyes like those."

The room fell into silence.

This time, it was Cloud who broke the silence. "Reno, Rude; I'm not really comfortable saying this, but I think we need your help on this one."

Reno spoke up, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. "Look, I' not sure I follow on all of this, but first thing is first; we gotta help those girls back in that place. IF that really WAS Sephiroth, then Rude and I'll need to inform the boss man."

The annoyance and anger in Cloud's voice was evident. "Reno, we don't have time for that; if it's Sephiroth, then you can bet your paycheck that he's using Aerith for something."

Rude's voice hit a low tone, making a sure statement to those in the room that he, too, was annoyed. "Cloud, I am not sure I understand what is going on here, especially the part with Sephiroth and Aerith being alive, but I'm not the kind of man to leave a bunch of helpless women in a factory filled with disgusting bastards. I don't know about you, but I've got a job to do."

Sephiroth listened intently as a single set of feet made their way out of the small house.

Reno was soon to follow suit after his partner. "Sorry man; not only do I have orders from the top to save those girls, I'm not the kind of guy to just sit and watch awful crap like that happen. Those girls come first."

A second pair of footsteps faded.

Silence, once more, took hold of the room with a cold grip. "Cloud..."

Sephiroth was sure the blond was at wits end as to what course of action to take next. He knew for certain that Cloud's kind demeanor wouldn't allow him to allow the girls who had been held captive merely sit there and be force to endure more suffering and sorrow, but Sephiroth also knew that the blonde swordsman wasn't the type to easily give up.

"Alright, Tifa; let's head back and help. But as soon as we finish, we start looking for Aerith again."

"Cloud?"

"Yea, Teef?"

"What is going to happen when we find Sephiroth and Aerith? What will you do?"

Another long silence invaded the room. "I'll kill him again."

"Cloud, what if Aerith is with him by choice?"

Sephiroth didn't have to see Cloud's face to know the look he was giving his brunette companion. "Don't say things like that, Tifa. You know as well as I do that Aerith isn't THAT forgiving."

Cloud's footsteps faded.

Tifa, however, remained in the room for a moment longer and let out a tremendous sigh. "Cloud, if you knew Aerith as well as you say, my notion wouldn't seem so strange. I wish you could see what was there and not just what you wanted to see."

Tifa's footsteps soon faded as well.

Sephiroth felt Aerith let out a large sigh from underneath him. He could feel her heavy heart beat against her chest that was so snugly pressed against his own. It was only at that moment in which Sephiroth realized how close they two of them truly were. Slowly, he pulled his face away from her own, his cheek now feeling cold due to the lack of her warm skin pressed against it. He could feel Aerith's slight tremble; adrenaline was still pumping through her veins. "That was close." Sephiroth could barely hear her voice over the thump of the her tiny racing heart. He felt her grasp tighten around his neck, and he looked down and made sincere eye contact with her for the first time since they had fought.

Her eyes trembled under his gaze, the tears filling the corners of her eyes threatening to spill over and leak her sorrow onto the wood floor she lay upon. "I'm so sorry I was cross with you."

Sephiroth watched the flower girl bite her lip in an attempt to keep the tears from spilling. His chest tightened and breathing suddenly became hard.

"I was so scared."

Her voice was hardly that of a whisper, but no sooner had her simple sentence spilled over her pink lips did her tears begin to flow freely down the side of her face.

Not knowing what else to do, Sephiroth merely allowed Aerith to cry freely and silently, holding onto him as though he was the last safe place the world had to offer. When his shoulder began to cramp slightly, he lowered his head into the crook of Aerith's neck. She, however, didn't seem to either notice or mind, for she simply continued to hold him and cry into his hair.

How long she held him and cried against him, Sephiroth didn't know. The warm beating of her heart had slowed, and eventually she had managed to stop crying long enough for the general to ease himself up on his elbows again and look upon her, curious to see if her tears would ever stop flowing.

Her emerald irises sparkled with relief. The tightening in Sephiroth's chest subsided.

"I'm sorry." She whispered her apologies again.

Sephiroth shook his head as he looked down at Aerith. He tried to allow his eyes to convey the message his voice was unable to; he wasn't angry with her, only relieved that she was now safe with him. When his head moved, his silver hair fell around Aerith's face in a curtain of moonlight. Though it shadowed her face, her irises remained as bright as ever.

A different kind of tight gripped Sephiroth's chest as he looked down and into the deep gaze of his flower girl. When had she become so precious to him?

"I was almost beginning to think you wouldn't come for me." It was hard for Sephiroth to think what it would have been like had he not ventured after her for she was, after all, all he had left on the physical world. She was the only kindness he had ever known.

His heart sped when he felt her soft palm against the side of his face. "I was so scared, I didn't know what to think."

Her gentle eyes, her soft skin, the way her fragrant hair pooled beneath her; Sephiroth wasn't sure what happened, but as he gazed down into Aerith's eyes he felt something stir within him.

Slowly, he gently lowered his head and leaned into Aerith's warm touch. Slightly surprised by the action and how close her guardian was to her, Aerith smiled somewhat nervously; Sephiroth wasn't one for physical contact.

Hovering above her for a moment, their faces mere inches apart, Sephiroth pondered what exactly she was doing to him. Aerith was all that was good to him; the scent of the woods after the rain, the warm sun on his face, the gentle flow of the ocean current, the sway of the trees in the wind. She was, to him, the epitome of perfection; innocent, beautiful, forgiving, kind, generous, selfless- she was, in short, everything he could not understand.

He moved his face closer, his lips hovering just above her own. Her smile had faded and she gaze up at him through emerald eyes filled with curiosity and wonder, silently questioning what it was he was doing. His eyes, however, didn't offer her an answer in return for even Sephiroth himself didn't know what it was he was doing- it was simply something he was compelled to do.

But he wouldn't frighten her; he left his lips hovering above hers, allowing her time to think, time to react- he would not chase her away. If she so desired, she could shake her head and he would move- all she had to do was allow uncertainty take over her gaze.

She didn't. Though he could feel her heartbeat quicken beneath him, he never once saw her gaze falter in the slightest. Slowly, she closed her eyes and raised her lips up to meet his own.

Sephiroth felt his heart explode within his chest. Never before in his life had he felt so anxious and yet so complete with the world around him. Aerith was soft beneath him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck once more, her breathing slow and steady. Slowly, he pulled away from her lips only slightly, testing her; what would her reaction be?

He was greatly pleased, however, when her arms tightened around him and she brought him down for another kiss.

Sephiroth had had his choice of women in his life; he had been, once upon a time, a great war hero with money at his disposal. None of the women he had ever been with, however, had kissed him the way Aerith kissed him. His heart sped up and slowed down at the same time, and his head felt as though it would surely spin right off of his shoulders. All other women in the world paled in comparison to the sun-kissed flower maiden beneath him.

Pulling away from her lips, Sephiroth continued bestowing gentle kisses upon Aerith. He kissed her cheeks and her nose, her eyelids and her forehead, her ears and her jaw.

She drove him mad.

When he reached her neck, he gently kissed and nuzzled her sensitive flesh. She moved underneath him in a way that seemed to kindle a fire in him that had long since burned out. Ever so slightly, she arched her back against him as he nibbled the tender flesh of her neck.

"Sephiroth."

Had he not been trained in Soldier for so many years, Sephiroth wouldn't have heard the almost silent whisper that had escaped the rosy lips of his flower girl.

But something came over him when she had whispered his name; he froze as an icy chill overcame his body. His eyes burst open and for a mere fraction of a second as visions of a time long past blurred past his vision. Images of the flower maiden's death flashed past his eyes; his own evil laugh coupled with Aerith's silent scream echoed though his mind. In his mind he could see the look of determination set upon Aerith's face, an odd sparkle of fear and sadness in her eyes.

Sephiroth was terrified.

He jump off Aerith as if she had burned him. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at him as if he had slapped her cross the face. Sephiroth felt as though his face had caught fire and immediately knew he was blushing. His heart was racing, his mind unsure of what he had just seen. He raised a hand to his forehead and knew instantly that he had somehow accumulated a fever.

"Sephiroth?" Aerith's voice was gentle with him, understanding, despite the way he was acting.

The general shook his head, his hands trembling.

"We should get out of here." Aerith's voice still remained gentle, but the situation of Cloud still remained. Slowly, Sephiroth broke eye contact. He nodded his head and took the hand Aerith had stretched out for him.

He helped her up and the two quietly and cautiously walked into the setting sun and Wutai's street life.


	32. Farewell

Great news, everyone! At SakuraCon 2007 in Seattle, Washington, Unspoken won for best novella (best work under 200 pages) in the fanfiction contest! If anyone was there, I was cosplaying as Fran from FF12. If you are interested, you can find pictures on my livejournal (mihoyonagi dotlive journal dot com).

Thanks for sticking by me, and I'm so sorry this small chapter took me so long! I got caught up in work and several new books from the library, and oh- you all know how it goes!

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 32: Farewell

The caves that littered the many faces carved into the side of the huge mountain hovering over Wutai provided a warm place to stay during chilly night for the two who had narrowly escaped a rather sticky situation only hours before. Sephiroth paced near the cave entrance, restless yet unable to do much else. A small problem kept the two in Wutai, hiding like small animals in the caverns the mountain side provided: Sephiroth had left his sword, his precious Masamune, with Zahi back in their room in the inn.

There was little that Sephiroth considered precious in his previous life; his sword was an extension of himself, and he felt naked without it.

He glanced over at the sleeping flower girl curled up near the back of the cave. The gentle glow of the fire that had burned for centuries inside of the caves of Da-chao lit up the highlights of Aerith's chestnut hair. She moved slightly in her sleep, and Sephiroth wondered if he should really do what he was planning on.

Without his Masamune, they were as good as helpless.

Sephiroth sighed quietly, exiting the cave. He was assaulted by the cold yet sweet night air. No breeze was present atop the mountain tonight, and the moon was quartered and clear over the cloudless sky. The stars sparkled in the distant reaches of space, but Sephiroth hadn't the time to admire their light; he had to retrieve something.

Luckily, this mission wouldn't involve cross-dressing.

Stealthier than a cat sneaking upon unsuspecting prey, Sephiroth swiftly made his way down the side of the mountain, traversing over several carved faces of Wutain ancestors along the way.

The city was dead, and Sephiroth wasn't sure if he should be pleased or nervous over the situation he faced; no one outside meant less of a chance of someone seeing him, yet had there been a crown he might have better luck blending in.

Sephiroth decided to chance it. Sprinting as hard and as fast as his legs would allow, the general darted across the streets of Wutai in the dead of night and leapt onto the roof of the two story inn located near the city's gates. Immediately sinking low enough to blend in with the shadows, Sephiroth silently paced across the rooftop, recalling what the inn had looked like on the inside. Sure enough, he came to the room that he knew to be the one he had shared with Zahi two nights before. The balcony was under furnished, and the door to the room was open despite the curtains having been drawn. Vaguely, Sephiroth could hear a faint sob. Slowly, he lowered himself on the balcony and listened intently.

It didn't take long for Sephiroth to notice the sobs were female; Zahi had apparently found his sister.

"He was tall, with silver hair and amazing eyes, Zahi! He was just like the warriors from the stories mother used to tell us! He slipped right through the ropes and saved us all!"

The girl's voice had a thick accent to it. She sounded almost as though she had originated from somewhere around Costa del Sol. It would, after all, explain her and Zahi's tanned skin tone.

"Did you see the girl he told me about?"

"Yes! That disgusting pig in the middle had slapped her, and that is when the warrior went crazy!"

"Was she pretty?"

"Oh, Zahi, she was beautiful! Her eyes were so pretty! Why, just when the warrior was going to kill the pig-man, the girl shouted something and looked up at him with her eyes and she instantly stopped. What a spell she seems to have over him!"

Feeling as though he shouldn't listen in any longer, Sephiroth knocked on the glass of the sliding balcony door. Despite the door being open, he felt it polite to knock and wait to be invited in. Sephiroth waited patiently as Zahi tore at the curtains, his eyes bright with pride and excitement.

No words were exchanged for several moments. Sephiroth gazed down at Zahi, while the boy looked up at the man whom had unknowingly changed his outlook on life. When no one would help the boy, it was Sephiroth who had, after all, come to his rescue. It was Zahi's sister who broke the silence.

"Thank you, warrior."

Sephiroth tore his gaze from Zahi and glanced at the tan woman standing close to her younger sibling. "I am eternally in your debt, as are all of the other women you saved this day."

Putting his hands up and shaking his head, Sephiroth tired to convey his message of humbleness; he didn't want thanks or eternal gratitude. In fact, he didn't even want praise; he just wanted his sword returned to him so he and Aerith could get out of the city.

Sephiroth ducked between the two, making a grab for the Masamune. He felt uncomfortable, feeling as though he was undeserving of the gratitude the siblings were showing.

Strapping Masamune to his belt securely, Sephiroth heaved a heavy sigh.

He had never been good with farewells.

Turning, he faced the siblings, trying to keep a cold yet gentle look set upon his visage.

Sephiroth felt his heart twinge.

The look upon Zahi's face was that of hope and excitement. His sister wore a large smile, filled with admiration.

The general shook his head, knowing full well what they were planning on asking him.

Zahi's face fell. "You won't take us with you?"

Pulling his notebook out, Sephiroth scribbled a message on an empty page. He ripped it out and placed it in Zahi's waiting palm. Without so much as a moment of hesitation, Sephiroth turned on his heel, headed out the balcony door and back into the night.

As he once again sank through the shadows of the darkness, he contemplated everything that had passed. Three close encounters with Cloud were three encounters too many. Just knowing he was in the same town with the blonde made Sephiroth uneasy.

What would happen if he were killed? His life was tied to Aerith's, and if he was to die then she would perish as well. It pained him to think of life without the flower girl. He had become so used to her company; the dull clunk of her heavy boots was comforting, despite the fact that he had hated the sound when they had first began living together back in Mideel. Her laugh was like the sound of wind chimes singing in the breeze, and she cooked so well. She always smelled warm, like clean linen, hard work and, of course, flowers.

When Sephiroth returned to the cave high upon the peaks of Da-chao, a small smile graced his lips when he saw the flower girl had scarcely moved during his absence. Surely she was exhausted, given the circumstance and what had transpired over the past few days. It was no wonder she was sleeping so deeply and peacefully; the poor girl had most likely not slept since the drugs had worn off after her initial kidnapping.

Sephiroth sat next to her and rummaged through his small bag of things, not entirely sure what it was he was truly looking for. He made sure everything was in place, running his fingers over a few of his items to make certain he hadn't misplaced them; a seashell whose inside shell was a smooth as silk, and the same color as his eyes; several sketches he would never admit to doing- a chocobo, several of the flower girl, small plants and animals he had taken an interest to along the way; a blue chocobo feather he had found in the barn back on the chocobo ranch. Nothing in his bag held particular monetary value, but each item held a particular value to the general.

Aerith stirred in her sleep, forcing Sephiroth back into reality. He though vaguely of the note he had left Zahi and his sister before stalking off into the night.

'I am sorry but I cannot take either of you with me. I've left you a large sum of Gil in the dresser- use it as you please. If fate means it to be we might meet again some day, but until then I bid you farewell and give you my best wishes.'

As he nodded off to sleep, Sephiroth also though of the deep kiss he and the flower girl had shared the day before. The visions he had witnessed earlier had shaken him- why, out of all the time he and Aerith had spent together, did the visions so suddenly when she was comfortably set in his arms? It had felt so wonderful to finally give in and kiss her, but he somehow felt he had tainted her. His calloused hands were no place for the delicate skin of the flower girl to rest.

Sephiroth rolled over and sighed. Getting out of Wutai and away from Cloud was his first priority. When he and Aerith were alone again, he would be able to clear his mind and devote his thoughts to other things aside from their safety.


	33. Content

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 33: Content

Sephiroth gazed intently up at the starlit sky. Each far away light glimmered like a tiny diamond, twinkling happily and brightly. Despite the beauty the stars offered Sephiroth, the general was not content. As Sephiroth contemplated the previous day's events, he couldn't shake off the feeling that everything had happened in one large blur. In fact he could hardly remember when he or the flower girl had awakened, let alone when they had bought passage on the fishing vessel headed for the peninsula south of Rocket Town. The only thing Sephiroth was able to think about all day was how they were going to get out of Wutai without attracting the attention of Cloud, Tifa, or the Turks.

The breeze that blew over the top of the boat smelled strongly of sea salt and fish, but was welcoming none the less. Despite the rolling darkness that had turned the waves of the ocean to black silk, the air was warm. It had only been a matter of days since he and the flower girl were in the cold airy forests that surrounded Junon- again, they were back in the southern hemisphere and summer had, obviously, taken the helm. Nearly a month before, they had been so comfortable in their cottage in Mideel.

Despite the stars and their silent symphony composed only with light, Sephiroth was not pleased with the night. Having grown accustomed to sleeping when they had lived in the small, tropical tourist town, Sephiroth found that the more time he seemed to spend outside the less he felt he needed sleep. After waking up in such pain as he had nearly when he was revived, his body had needed quite a while to heal. In his previous life, sleep was something that his body didn't need. The cells of Jenova that once swam inside of him provided him with so much strength and energy that sleep was something he did when he was bored. Food was also something his body could do easily without a supply of, though Sephiroth rarely turned down a good, hot meal.

But that was then.

Sephiroth watched Aerith let out a small shiver under the blanket she had draped over her shoulders. She stood near him on the deck of the ship. Her cheeks were a rosy pink from the wind, a color that suited her delicate features rather well.

The general looked away, feeling inwardly sheepish over such a thought. While it had technically been two days since his mouth had descended upon Aerith's sweet lips, he was still fighting the color that attempted to rise to his cheeks every time he thought about her. She had been so delicate beneath him, so frail, and yet she was stronger than any other being Sephiroth could think of. Sephiroth suddenly found the waves very interesting.

Aerith slowly made her way next to him, her tiny feet dragging across the metal of the deck of the ship. "Nice out, isn't it?" Her voice was casual, nonchalant, and she spoke as though the kiss they had shared was the absolute last thing on her mind.

Sephiroth found it hard to swallow (not that he could talk, anyway). He nodded, numbly.

"I can't believe we made it out here without those guys finding us. The whole day just seems like a blur; like I closed my eyes and missed everything from sunup to sunset." Aerith let out a large sigh. Sephiroth wasn't sure what to do. Merely shifting his weight from one side of his body to the other, he kept his eyes on the waves of the ocean and tired desperately not to think of the kiss they had shared.

"I have a favor to ask." Aerith's voice had suddenly taken a slightly cold tone. "In Rocket Town, there might be someone I used to know."

Sephiroth's mind sorted through memories. Rocket Town? Aerith must have been speaking about the old pilot whom she used to travel with. Inwardly frowning, Sephiroth silently hoped that Aerith wasn't about to ask to visit the pilot. The only thing that the general remembered about the space man was that he was loud, and he swore enough to make a sailor cringe.

"I don't want to be in Rocket Town any longer than we have to be. If we run into Cid, he'll be sure to tell Cloud. Cid isn't the type to listen very well. You know how that will end up."

Immediately, Sephiroth thought of the several narrow escapes he and the flower girl had managed. That, however, was all based off of Cloud's speculation. Sephiroth didn't want to even begin to fathom what would happen if any further proof of his existence were to show up. He already had the testimony of two Turks, albeit one was drunk and the other hung-over.

Sephiroth sighed, feeling somewhat guilty for hoping Aerith wouldn't ask to visit her pilot friend. On the other hand, that was her old life was it not? Sephiroth had moved on. It was obvious to him that Aerith was still searching for the strength to.

It seemed that Aerith took Sephiroth's silence as an affirmation of what she had been speaking of, for she didn't say anything about Rocket Town or the pilot again. Instead, she leaned her head against Sephiroth's shoulder and let out a large sigh. "It's so nice out tonight."

Suddenly, Sephiroth found breathing very difficult. Again, he tried to concentrate on the waves of the sea licking the boat. He hadn't the slightest idea as to what he was meant to do. Shiva forsake him, he hadn't the slightest idea how to act around Aerith since they had kissed. Sephiroth wasn't one for wooing women, and while he was certain he had some kind of feelings toward the beautiful flower girl leaning against him, he was entirely sure what she wanted from him.

He felt like a hormonal, confused teenager. Sephiroth rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. Mustering up his courage, though inwardly berating himself, he leaned his head against the top of Aerith's. It was a gentle, friendly gesture, or so he hoped that was what it seemed like. Sephiroth didn't know what else to do. He hadn't the slightest idea as to what it was exactly Aerith wanted from him, so he allowed her what he thought would be alright. They had, after all, only narrowly escaped Cloud for the umpteenth time (it was getting rather old, the general was beginning to think; the damn blonde was such a stubborn mule), and Aerith leaning up against his shoulder could just be her way of letting Sephiroth know that she was relieved.

'Oh great Shiva, what have you done to me?' Had Sephiroth the ability, he would have given himself a swift kick in the behind so he might regain his senses. What a spell the flower girl seemed to have on him!

"Hey! You two, up front!" The voice was female, thick with sleep yet laced with excitement. Sephiroth and Aerith turned to look upon the ship's captain. Though she was small and female, the resolve that shone brightly in her eyes was unmistakable for anything else. "We're going to start hauling up our nets. You might want to get below, unless you enjoy being covered from the knees down in fish."

Needing no further explanation, Sephiroth scuttled down the small set of stairs and into the innards of the boat with Aerith close behind. Before the general was able to shut the door, he heard the captain shout after him, "If we get a decent haul, we'll dock south of Rocket Town within the next few hours. You and your girl get some sleep."

Making sure the door was latched tight as so no unwanted fishy explorers might venture their way inside the cabin, Sephiroth gave the door an extra push to make certain it was tight. He then turned around and was surprised to see Aerith already curled up in the small cabin bed. Sephiroth looked around for some sort of chair to sit in, or bench to lean against, and was disappointed when he realized that no such thing existed in the small cabin. There was a small writing desk with several books piled atop it, but it was missing a chair; the only other option was the bed, which Aerith had already claimed for herself.

The general watched as Aerith rolled over and gave him a puzzled look. "I know you're tired," he was informed. "There isn't anything else that can be done; we'll have to share." After watching her set her head against her pillow, Sephiroth took note that Aerith had curled up on one side of the bed in the first place.

With no other solution in sight, for Sephiroth couldn't very well stand all night and the floor was too small to sit on, he made his way over tot he small cabin bed and almost shyly crawled up against Aerith. Despite the fact that the two were lying on their sides with their backs facing one another, their bodies were still mashed up together.

Sephiroth suddenly found breathing difficult. Curse his damned emotions! Wanting nothing more than to rip out his own hair over the idea that he was back to back in a tight space against Aerith and that he was acting like a damn teenager over it, Sephiroth forced his heartbeat down to a normal pace and gave himself a few moments to regain his composure.

'It's just the flower girl,' he recited in his mind. 'You used to share a house with her, let her pick out your clothing for the day, cook your food, and wash your clothing. You're being silly.'

No amount of chiding, however, could reset Sephiroth's mind over the matter. He was slowly beginning to realize that the reason the previous day's journey had been a blur was because he was pushing it away from conscious thought with quite a bit of mental force. The entire day, despite being terrified that Cloud would eventually catch up with them, he had been thinking about Aerith. He had been thinking about her tiny hands, her slender hips, and her plump, pink lips and they way they had felt against his own. Having spent so much time in war zones and Shinra labs, Sephiroth had little time for women in his previous life.

Oh, sure, he had his occasional fill of beauties who had all but thrown themselves upon the 'great general Sephiroth, whom had conquered the foreign land of Wutai', but it was strictly out of primal need; not a single woman who had spent one night with him had been lucky enough to spend a second. Bodily needs like sleep and food were something Sephiroth learned to deal with; The Jenova cells within his body had made sure that the conservation and dispensing of energy were their priority, while his mind was elsewhere and the cells had yet to call out to their host. But needs that encompass his mind and body- those were something that he couldn't control. Despite being filled with Jenova material, and whatever else the Shinra decided to inject him with, his body was that of a mans and he could no more refuse the alluring call of a beautiful, willing woman than he could stop the moon in the sky and demand it go bother some other planet.

Not that he didn't enjoy it. The women, that is, not the part about yelling at the moon.

Sephiroth had never been the one to initiate any action; it was always the woman who came to him, thinking they could change him and make him love them.

Little did they know that all it would take would be a sword though the heart, a painful death (on both of their parts, it was supposed), a just as painful resurrection, constant kindness, good cooking, and the willingness to drop anything and everything to turn tail and run at the drop of a hat to earn not only his respect but some of his affection.

Sephiroth had, indeed, come to such a realization that he had some sort of warm, fuzzy feelings and they were all directed toward Aerith, for it was only when she was around did his heart pound, his head pound, and his hands tremble.

'Oh, screw it all.'

The general closed his eyes, let his body go slack, and reveled in the moment; he was close enough to Aerith that he could feel her heartbeat, feel her warmth, and didn't have to worry about getting pummeled by fish on the deck.

It was nice to lie next to the flower girl. It was calming, and relaxing, and Sephiroth, for the first time since he and Aerith had left Mideel, was content, despite the fact that the world outside was still turning.


	34. Surprise

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 34: Surprise

It wasn't the question of 'why' Sephiroth struggled with. He knew he had feelings for the flower girl who was curled up snugly against him, and he wouldn't soon be denying it (although admitting it to her was another problem all its own). It was, however, a question of how.

How, in Shiva's name, had he managed to get underneath Aerith, of all places?

Not that he was complaining, of course. In fact, he was most comfortable.

No, the problem that was currently wracking Sephiroth's brain was how he and the flower girl had managed to get into such an awkward position without either of them waking up.

Aerith's head was nestled against the crook of the general's neck, and her shoulder was tucked tightly under his arm. The hand that belonged to the arm she was snuggled against was draped gently atop her waist, and the general's other hand was lightly resting atop the flower girl's elbow that had come to lie across Sephiroth's chest.

Great Ifrit, it was as if they had been cuddling. Leaders of wars and revolutions didn't cuddle. At least, Sephiroth was almost positive they didn't. If they did, it certainly was unheard of. Well, some might of indeed cuddled- women have the tendency to catch men off guard at times, and an accidental cuddle cannot be predicted or helped in the sleepy state one enters right after waking and-

Oh blast it- his mind was wondering off again!

Sephiroth bit his lip sharply, forcing his mind to stop from cavorting about random places again; he had to stay in the present, not lost somewhere in the recesses of his brain. He had to get out from under Aerith without waking her, for Sephiroth had no wish to see the flower girl angry.

He could just see the situation play out in his mind while he carefully moved his elbow; Aerith would wake up while he tired to move her and she would immediately think the worst of the situation. Aerith, of course, was kind and understanding, that much was known; but what was also known was the fact that Aerith was a woman. Despite Aerith's kindness and understanding, she would most likely assume the something terrible after only wondering the land of the conscious for less than ten seconds, and Sephiroth, being the cause of the confusion, would be the one to receive instant punishment. Her punishment would most likely be comprised of a lightning bolt to his face.

Knowing full well he had never put more effort and concentration into a single matter in his life, Sephiroth was monumentally relieved when he managed to squeeze under Aerith without stirring her even once. Carefully and without much hesitation, he crept from the room and quietly shut the door behind him. Making his way up the small set of stairs, a wonderful smell filled his nose and caused his stomach to rumble in a most unflattering way, though thankfully no one was around to hear it. Peeking around, Sephiroth soon found where the pleasant aromas were coming from; the captain and her crew were cooking their breakfast right on the deck of the ship.

"Hungry, are you?" Sephiroth noted that the captain's smile was pleasant in the sunlight; it made her look a little less stern than she had the night before. She motioned for the general to come and join her crew.

Sephiroth walked over without hesitation, knowing full well he couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to eat a good meal; it must have been as far back as the chocobo ranch he and Aerith had passed through. He mused on how long ago it seemed to be that he and the flower girl were feeding chocobos sugar cubes with the children, Pete and Puck.

The breakfast was warm and welcome in Sephiroth's empty stomach; despite the massive amount of fish that the crew had caught during the midnight hours, the food they had prepared wasn't anything that contained seafood. Pancakes, diced fruit, hash browns, sausage; Sephiroth's mouth began watering as if he had been starved for days. He was halfway through his plate when he noticed Aerith had made an appearance upon the deck of the ship. The captain waved her hand above her head and smiled just as warmly at Aerith as she had to the general; Sephiroth turned around and felt a smile tug at his lips when he saw his flower girl slowly walking up, large grin spread across her visage, her hair a frizzy mess. Sephiroth watched as she raised a hand to return the wave of the captain, then bring it down to rub the sleep from her eyes.

Her company was like the sun on his back; warm and welcome. Though Sephiroth would never admit to something such a thing out loud, he was growing extremely fond of the flower girl's company and, despite only having been away from her for less than ten minutes, had grown lonely without her by his side, even with the company of the ships' crew.

She sat next to him and ate in silence, though Sephiroth had the distinct feeling it might be slightly more awkward for him considering that it was, after all, he who had woken up underneath Aerith. Sephiroth noticed that Aerith had cleaned her plate moments before he cleaned his own, a feat that only fed the general's theory in which he imagined Aerith just as hungry as he. Albeit, she didn't stay for seconds as Sephiroth hoped she would. Instead she excused herself, proclaiming that she needed to wash up and get ready for when they docked, and promptly disappeared below.

While chewing his second helping of hash browns and sausage, Sephiroth began to contemplate where he and the flower girl were to travel next. They would need supplies, and Rocket Town was the only trading post until Nibelheim. Through the treacherous, fog-laden mountain passes they would be forced to traverse and Sephiroth knew, regardless of the fact that he was a well-bodied and able fighter, that the rocky cliffs weren't going to welcome him with open arms. The trek would be dangerous, and their current stock of ethers and hi-potions would not be nearly what they would need.

Bowing deeply in thanks toward the crew, thankful that they understood the fact that his voice had long since left him and neither seemed bothered by it or inclined to ask about it, Sephiroth soon joined his traveling companion below deck. When he entered their small cabin, he saw Aerith sitting at the desk, her back faced toward him; it was the first time she had ever let her hair free from its constricting braid, and Sephiroth found himself unable to stifle a sharp intake of air as he gazed upon what he felt was the epitome of beauty itself. He watched her turn around and regard him with a curious smile.

Sephiroth turned around and shut the door, pretending that he hadn't gasped. Instantly feeling the color rising in his cheeks, Sephiroth mentally reprimanded himself. It wasn't the time for such frivolity! He couldn't be bothered to fall in love with the girl while Cloud was hot on their-

Before his brain could process so much as another word, Sephiroth stopped dead, his hand still resting on the doorknob. He stood there, completely flummoxed, absolutely certain that the flush of his cheeks had invented several new shades of red.

'Is that was this light-headed, almost sorrowful emotion that keeps beating me senseless while in her presence is?'

"Are you alright, Seph? Not feeling sick, are you?" Her voice rang like bells in his ears, and he could feel a deep feeling of dread creep up and blanket him like a cold, wet sheet.

Sephiroth was beginning to believe the dratted feeling welling up inside of him was exactly what he feared.

Composing himself as best he could, Sephiroth had completely meant to turn around and address Aerith like a sensible man; his plan involved absolutely avoiding eye contact and sitting on the bed with his back turned to her until they hit land, ignoring her and any inquiries she might throw at him in full. Lady luck, that fickle mistress, seemed to smile at the man with a mess of silver hair, however, for just as Sephiroth had let go of the doorknob than it turned and burst open.

The ship's first mate stood nearly nose to nose with Sephiroth. The poor lad, not expecting to come face to face with anyone, let out a tiny yelp before he regained his composure. "We dock in five minutes!"

Turning to face Aerith, Sephiroth made an upward motion with his head and shoulder. Aerith nodded in understanding and turned away from him, beginning to braid her hair. "I'll meet you outside when I'm finished."

Sephiroth, thanking whatever divinity that seemed to have taken momentary pity upon him, quickly slid out of the tiny cabin and made his way back onto the deck of the ship. The fishing vessel docked without mishap, and Aerith was ready to venture off moments after the barge had been tied to the pier. Wishing not to waste another minute of time if they didn't have to, Sephiroth began to walk from the ship. As soon as hi foot had landed on the dock, however, he could feel that Aerith was nowhere behind him. Sighing to himself, he turned around to see where the flower maiden had wondered off to. He looked upon the deck of the ship to see Aerith shaking hands with the crew, thanking them for their generous hospitality and attempting to hand the captain something for her troubles.

"Nonsense- I can't take payment from you! Where would be the sisterhood in that? Take it- you and your friend seem to be frazzled and need it more than us. Besides," the woman made a large motion, pointing behind her toward the huge haul of fish off the side nets of the ship. "With a catch like this, we'll be set for a while now."

Watching Aerith smile and gently hug the woman, Sephiroth was relieved that the captain had refused their silly attempt at gratitude; ethers weren't cheap, after all.

With one last wave, smile, and good bye, Sephiroth and Aerith made their way from the small mooring dock off the ocean's shore. Rocket town could be seen in the distance, though Sephiroth guessed it would talk a good portion of the day to hike there. The road ahead of them was flat and unpaved, uneven in most places due to the volume of traffic to and from the docks. The shore behind them was littered with a gift shop, a small restaurant, and several huts that sold swim ware and items suitable for beach-goers.

"Doesn't look too long of a hike, does it?" Aerith's tone was light. Sephiroth guessed that she was immensely happy to have set foot upon solid land again. Though she was constantly full of and overflowing with mystery, Aerith never failed to surprise the general in her ways. When they had been stuck back in Midgar, Aerith had relayed parts of her life story over to him. He most vividly recalled her tales of growing up in the slums, meaning she had most likely never been outside of the city until she had joined Cloud's party of misfits. That meant, in turn, that she had never set foot on the deck of a ship before. What surprised him was that, although she had never sailed before, she had sturdy sea legs and hadn't become sea-sick on either of their seaward voyages. Sephiroth distinctly remembered his first time on a boat, and the mess his stomach had made over the side of the barge.

Sephiroth was beginning to think that Aerith would never neglect astonish him and, with the way that his heart was fluttering as he watched her bangs wisp across her face, caught by the sea breeze, that was just fine for now.


	35. Affection

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 35: Affection

Sephiroth was torn greatly between two major decisions, both of which were equally toeing the line that divided his mind between sanity and insanity. The first was the undeniable urge to take Aerith in his arms and simply hold her. He was, after all, a stranger to love and the feelings that accompanied it, and didn't know what else to do. He wanted to be near her, that much was undoubted. His second option was to simply cut off his hands to prevent himself from reaching out to her.

The second option was beginning to look like the lesser of two evils.

It wasn't that Sephiroth wanted to hide his feelings from his beautiful flower maiden; in fact, it was the far opposite, he had come to realize. Sephiroth wanted nothing more than to, quite frankly, tell her that she drove him crazy, then promptly hold her small frame tightly against his own.

The fact of the matter was, however, the problem he had with envisioning himself and Aerith actually together. Unfortunately, Sephiroth was hell bent and determined not to be with the flower girl for one simple reason; he was a monster. Sephiroth knew that Aerith deserved far better than a such a monstrous human being as he.

She had returned his kiss when they were stuck behind the couch back in Wutai, and despite how his heart had fluttered about in his chest like a butterfly on moogle-nip, his heart sunk the more he thought about it. He had killed her for crying out loud, and here he was picturing her wrapped safely in his arms, squished against him so tight he would be able to hear her very heart beat.

It was a barrage of mental anguish and Sephiroth, who had never before felt an emotion so intense before, was resisting the unrelenting urge to kick himself in the head, even if such an action wouldn't help the situation any and only provide him with a large headache.

Aerith, it seemed, wasn't bothered by his state of mild delirium and constant, if only meek, agitation and jumpiness, or at the very least she was an amazing actress and pretended to know nothing of what the general was going through. Sephiroth wasn't sure what to suspect of the flower girl, and so he tired his best to convince himself that she merely didn't notice his strange state, or that she was simply giving him his space.

The road from the small coastal outlet to Rocket Town seemed to stretch on forever; Sephiroth wasn't sure to be thankful that he was given time enough to think to himself, or be annoyed that the road seemed endless, thus giving him ample time to casually steal glances at Aerith whenever her attention was being paid elsewhere. It was early afternoon when the companions reached the busting town that no longer had a rocket within its city limits. Sephiroth thought it strange that the inhabitants of the township would keep the name Rocket Town when the town no longer harbored a rocket; the only proof, in fact, that demonstrated the notion that the town was once part of any kind of space program was the large, empty launch pad set far back against the trees and houses. Its hallowing stature informed all who entered that this city, and this city alone, was home to the first astronaut, the first man to walk among the stars. The city, with or without a functioning rocket, was as much a part of history as Sephiroth himself. Still, Sephiroth pondered the accuracy and logic of keeping rocket in a name when the rocket in question was absent.

Aerith interrupted his inner musings of the town and its missing rocket. "We only need to be here long enough to buy a few things. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to." Sephiroth noticed that, when she spoke, her voice had lost its normally high-spirited trill. Instantly, he recognized that she was uncomfortable and on edge, which only made him so. "We just need to re-supply, then we can leave." Aerith was almost chanting, and Sephiroth suspected that she was talking more to herself than him.

Upon finally entering the city, Sephiroth was rather taken aback at the celebratory mood everyone seemed to be in. Streamers and balloons were set along the fence of a small house nearing the center of town. A large crowd of people had gathered in the front lawn of the house and nearly all of them had a paper plate with a piece of chocolate cake adorning it. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Sephiroth began to wonder if every town he and the flower girl were going to be traveling through would be throwing some sort of festival.

Sephiroth was able to keep up with Aerith, despite the crowd, and was still capable of looking around at the town and everyone's uplifted faces. Several small children frolicked on the other side of the little white picket fence, while their parents looked happily upon them and chatted with the other adults. Sephiroth was quick to notice that the old pilot Aerith had traveled with was not with the large crowd outside of what the general could only guess was the airman's house.

The atmosphere changed quickly as Sephiroth followed Aerith into a small café. Though the seats were crowded and the environment lively, the small eatery gave off a distinctly relaxed impression. The general noticed several heads turn upon his entrance, most likely to gaze upon his shock of silver hair, but everyone turned back to their meals and paid the strange couple no further attention.

Not sure why Aerith would be stopping in a café for, Sephiroth followed her to the front counter. He watched her sit down on an empty bar stool and then pat the empty seat next to her, beckoning him to join her. Noticing that her face was somewhat somber, Sephiroth ignored the fact that he felt as if she had called him like a dog to him and instead sat and peered at the menu above the counter. Lacking a larger emotional range, Sephiroth was silently grateful that he couldn't verbally ask Aerith what was bothering her so; he, honestly, had a distinct feeling that she wouldn't tell him right away if he were to ask. He mentally decided it was something having to do with either her pilot friend, or her being a woman and prone to mood swings. Sephiroth prayed that it wasn't the latter. He had enough trouble being around Aerith when she was emotionally stable as it were.

"What can I get you two?" A tall man stood behind the counter, drying his hands on a dish towel.

"Two chocolate milkshakes, please." Aerith's smile was genuine, despite the tension behind her voice that Sephiroth was very aware of. He was, though however slowly, beginning to learn all of Aerith's quirky traits. It was no longer difficult for him to decipher the emotion behind her voice. Deciphering them, however, was one thing; Sephiroth didn't even think about understanding them. If there was one thing that the general was absolutely sure about, it was that Aerith was not to be analyzed. Just when he was convinced that he had the flower girl figured out, she would say or do something that would have his mind pounding the rethink button.

The waiter brought the requested milkshakes and set them down upon the counter, one in front of each of his new patrons. Without skipping a beat, and much to Sephiroth's dismay, the waiter immediately began to strike up conversation with Aerith. "Are you two from out of town?"

Aerith smiled, sipping her milkshakes. "We are just passing though, yes."

The waiter returned her smile, while Sephiroth looked upon the conversation with slight distaste.

"Where are the two of you headed?"

Aerith, ever quick on her toes, supplied the waiter an answer before Sephiroth was even able to formulate a plausible answer in his own mind. "Cosmo Canyon. I have a relative of sorts that lives there."

"Nice place, Cosmo Canyon." The waiter was leaning slightly over the counter. It made Sephiroth slightly uneasy, though the general had enough self control to stop himself from picking Aerith up and marching her outside. Had people in Rocket Town never heard of personal space?

"It's very beautiful, indeed." Sephiroth watched Aerith take another large sip of her milkshake. Deciding to do the same, Sephiroth snatched his glass off of the countertop in front of him and proceeded to inhale a large portion of the frozen drink.

It turned out to be a terrible idea. Instantly, a piercing pain shot through Sephiroth's skull. For one brief, flickering moment of despair, Sephiroth thought Jenova had come back to haunt him. After several more seconds of the pounding headache, he came to the conclusion that it was not an alien life form intruding on his brain, but rather brain freeze. When he finally managed to come to his senses, Sephiroth was surprised to hear the light twitter that was Aerith's giggle. He instantly turned to her and shot her a rather questioning look. He watched as she placed her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing any harder out loud.

"I'm sorry, Seph, but that face you made… Oh goodness!"

Realizing that he must have, indeed, looked quite silly in order to earn such a reaction from Aerith, he decided to ignore the fact that she was laughing at him. Playfully, he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his milkshakes, careful to drink only a small portion.

"Never had a milkshake before?" The waiter's face was a mix of amusement and astonishment.

Sephiroth merely shrugged, turning his head and looking around the café at some of the other patrons. He didn't want to strike up conversation with the café worker, not simply because of the fact that he couldn't do much actual talking. After being all but ambushed by the bartender back in Wutai when he was garbed in… Well, Sephiroth was on less than good terms with those who sold drinks over a counter because of what happened.

"Have you congratulated the captain yet?"

Sephiroth watched Aerith look up out of the corner of his eye. He sat still while she gave the barista a befuddled look.

"His son was born this morning. Sorry; it was a little silly for me to assume that a couple of outsiders would know information like that."

Sephiroth's heart sank as he watched Aerith stiffen. Though it was obvious, to Sephiroth at the least, that she her mind was spinning, she smiled up at the waiter and shook her head. "How much do we owe you?"

The waiter shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I've been giving free drinks to my regulars all day; what kind of person would I be if I wasn't kind to strangers, too?"

Aerith stood, bowing her head. "Thank you very much. I hope you and the town have fun with the celebration. Tell C –the captain- that everyone wishes him good luck with his family, I'm sure."

Though the waiter gave Aerith a puzzled look, he nodded nevertheless. Sephiroth could feel the man's eyes on them as he and Aerith quickly fled the café.

She stopped in the middle of the street, peering around for a few moments. Sephiroth was slightly frightened over the idea that Aerith might be looking for her old, foul-mouthed pilot friend. He moved to reach a hand out to her in order to comfort her, but she hadn't noticed the motion and began moving before he was able to actually touch her. With a sigh, Sephiroth followed her into the item shop. She silently sauntered through the crowd and smiled at the shop attendant.

"We just need a few things."Aerith began listing off their requirements to the shopkeep while he smiled and nodded, hands disappearing under the counter and reappearing with whatever Aerith had previously listed off. Despite the fact that their needs were small, the price of the goods was not; the necessities were costing them nearly all they had managed to save up from fighting the monsters during their travels. Sephiroth thought it to rather be a pity; he was planning on asking Aerith for a slice of cake for their journey for he missed the sugary goodness terribly.

After paying the item shop's proprietor what he had requested, much to the dismay of their now light wallet, Aerith thanked the man and turned on her heels, nearly bowling Sephiroth over in her actions. Her face, however, didn't falter in the slightest when their shoulders collided and she instead scurried out of the door before Sephiroth was able to do much more than follow her.

He gave her a small amount of space until they reached the outskirts of town. Quickening his pace, Sephiroth reached out his hand and gently placed it on Aerith's stiff shoulder. Her reaction, however, confused the general; instead of taking his gesture of goodwill and opening up to him, or at least confronting him, she merely roller her shoulder and shook his hand off. Displeased with her actions, Sephiroth was slowly becoming frustrated with the flower girl. Once more, he placed his hand upon Aerith's shoulder, but this time took a firm grip so that she would not be able to shake him off.

She stopped so suddenly that Sephiroth almost collided into her back. Her body was stiff, her shoulder's haunched over as if she were trying to hide her face. "What?" She had never before held venom in her voice. Sephiroth was becoming rather angry over Aerith's reactions. Placing his free hand on Aerith's other shoulder, Sephiroth turned the flower girl around to face him. Trying to put on a face that sent the message of 'please let me know what is happening to you' as well as 'please don't be this way', the general silently prayed that Aerith wasn't possessed by some sort of evil creature that makes one act out.

His prayers weren't answered, though Aerith was not, in fact, possessed by any soft of creature.

"I went into the dammed cafe on purpose, alright!"

Sephiroth immediately let go of Aerith's shoulders and took a large step backwards. Never before had the flower girl yelled at him with such anger in her voice.

Aerith clenched her fists into tight balls and thrust them downward at her sides. "I'll admit it- I miss my friends. I went into the cafe hoping to hear at least a little something about Cid and I got what I wanted but now I'm unhappier than if I hadn't found out! My friend has a baby and I won't be around to watch or help it grow up! As far as I know, Cid still thinks that I am dead and I might as well be because Cloud will never stop coming after us and we'll never get a break and I'll never see my friends again and I feel so damn lonely!"

The flower girl crossed her arms and turned away from the dumbfounded Sephiroth.

"I'll come clean, Sephiroth. I'm selfish. I want to see all of my friends again. I want to stay up late painting my nails and braiding my hair with Tifa; I want to play trivia games with Red; I want to play video games and watch sappy movies with Yuffie; I want to play cards with Reeve, along side Cait Sith; I want to help Cid raise his baby; I want to talk about the books I've read with Vincent; at this point in time, I even want to watch sports with Barret. But I can't because I'm running away from Cloud with you. I'm running away from everything I know."

Sephiroth could hear all of the emotions Aerith was pouring into her words. She was angry, that much was clear; but Sephiroth could not hear a drop of hate in her voice.

The flower maiden who he had begun to fall so hard for turned out to be just as human as everyone else. Sephiroth's throat was dry and his eyes were burning with an unfamiliar feeling. He didn't notice Aerith turn around, for his mind was spinning and his eyes were focusing more on keeping him steady.

"Please don't hate me." Aerith's hands reached up and removed several tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Sephiroth looked up, and though his eyes met with hers, he felt as though his own irises were staring out with empty gazes.

The woman who he had thought so pure, so perfect, was just as human as he was. A million emotions burst through him at once, most of all the realization that Aerith wasn't a saint. The fact that he had put her so high upon a pedestal in his own mind bothered him- it had made her affections unattainable. But now- oh Shiva above, she was almost even more splendid than before.

For the first time since his resurrection, Sephiroth made a profound realization; he was not a monster, and Aerith was not a saint. They were human. And they were far from perfect. That, however, meant everything to Sephiroth. Angels and demons despised one another. Humans could learn to love one another. Could he gain Aerith's affections? How?

The emotional turmoil that Sephiroth was going through felt amazing and terrible at the same time. His mind was a mess. He should be angry at Aerith for berating him so, and for being so selfish. She was blaming her problems on him when she knew just as well as he did that they were both to blame equally. Aerith had brought him back to life, yes, but she has opted to stay with the swordsman instead of abandon him. Had she wanted her own life, she had been more than welcome to take it. But she hadn't, and such was the reason why Sephiroth was so happy. She had stayed with him, and even though she was unhappy at times, for she missed her friends, she had still forgiven him for taking away what was precious to her in the capital city; her life. That was, however, why Sephiroth decided, finally, why he loved her; she was human, and she was, to him, perfect.

Aerith, however, seemed to mistake his emotional revelation as shock. She shook her head and squished her visage into a most unattractive face. "Please don't hate me. I'm not made at you, I just miss how everything used to be- when it was simple."

Sephiroth opened his mouth, hoping his voice would come to his rescue. It, however, still shunned him and refused to allow him to speak. Reaching for his notebook, he stopped when Aerith put her hand on his forearm. He looked up at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. "I don't want to stay here any longer. Can we talk about this when we get to Nibelheim?"

The general nodded and removed his hand from his pocket. They began to walk, side by side, gazes apart, toward the Nibelheim mountains. It was obvious to Sephiroth that Aerith had much on her mind, though her expression was far lighter than it should have been given her outburst. Perhaps, Sephiroth decided, she merely needed to get her emotions off of her chest. He, after all, had never been big for conversation since he couldn't really speak. They would sort things out when they reached somewhere safer to stay than the plains outside of Rocket Town.

In the mean time, however, Sephiroth pondered how best to win Aerith's affections. He knew, based off of the way she had spoken, that she was merely upset and not angry with him. Hate had not been an emotion that had flooded her voice during her outburst. That meant, in the mind of the general, that there was room for improvement on his behalf. He wanted Aerith's approval- he wanted her to smile up at him, and hold him and kiss him and- oh good Ramah, there his mind went again, with the mushy-gushy stuff. Sephiroth smiled slyly to himself; as long as no one knew he was thinking such tender thoughts, what was the harm? After all, wasn't the way to a woman's heart through romance?

Sephiroth's smile faded. What did he know of romance?


	36. Truth

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 36: Truth

The tension in the air between Sephiroth and his pretty flower maiden was so thick he was certain he was bound to choke upon it. It wasn't that Aerith wasn't talking to or ignoring him- it was that Sephiroth was able to detect the slightest hint of some strange emotion carefully tucked away under her voice. He spent many hours contemplating what the tone insinuated while they walked under they shadowy peaks of the small mountain range that divided the continent. Was she angry with him, or merely annoyed? It didn't quite sound like pity, but Sephiroth would be damned before he ruled anything out completely; he had learned that it was a rare occasion in which he could pinpoint exactly what was going through Aerith's mind. Perhaps, he pondered, that was one reason why he was so enthralled with her.

During their long hike through the mountains, Sephiroth had noticed Aerith shiver slightly and begin to rub her arms. He immediately took note of how cold it was (for though his body was human it was still used to the rigorous Soldier training and conditioning, thusly cold had little effect on him) and promptly removed a jacket from his bag and handed it to Aerith. As if a momentary lapse of judgment had befuddled her sense, she reached her hand out and took the jacket from her companion, smiling all the while. Then, it seemed to Sephiroth, that she had suddenly remembered that she was trying to be pouty and somewhat flustered still, and her face fell instantaneously. The general, not perturbed by her frown in the least, smiled inwardly to himself. Her smile, though however brief, was always warm and welcome upon her rosy visage and it had been, he contemplated, a long while since he had witnessed her smile so brightly. A small smile, he observed quietly to himself, was better than nothing and it certainly showed that while she was upset with him still, Sephiroth's chances at retribution were great.

Despite the fact that he had been thinking of ways to win the flower girl's affections all day, Sephiroth was empty handed and without a single idea of how to do so. He wanted Aerith to be happy, of course, but it seemed to him that the only way for her to be truly happy would be to reunite with her friends. It wasn't that Sephiroth had any ill-wishes against her long-ago comrades, though for Cloud he would gladly make an exception. It was merely the fact that Aerith was leading a completely different life with him. For the most part, the general noted, Aerith seemed happy and rather content in his presence. Recent developments, namely her slight emotional explosion aimed straight for him, begged to differ.

She had two options- she could stay with him, or she could be with her friends.

It hurt Sephiroth to think such at first, but as the sun began to set behind the mountains he realized that Aerith was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She missed her friends greatly and wanted to be with them again, which was a level of companionship Sephiroth had not understood until he pondered the idea. He would be sad if he left Aerith, and would try everything in his power to be with her again. Aerith had given up her friends to stay with him, to be his guiding light and his faithful companion, without, at first, a second thought.

But circumstances had changed and her friends were getting by without her, having children and leading their lives without her (though Sephiroth was completely sure they must think of her on a regular basis for even he was positive that he would miss her terribly were she to leave). If she stayed with him, she would be depriving herself of being with her friends and loved ones. If she stayed with him, she would be forced to continue her isolation with him until the end of their days.

Sephiroth was just fine with the idea of being stuck with Aerith until his dying days, but knew in an instant that Aerith wasn't someone who could be kept in such a cage. She was free, and Sephiroth had come to respect her for it. She did as she pleased, even when she wasn't happy.

So far, that was all the general could hope for. Perhaps, given time, he could win her affections and some kind of compromise could be found between them. Sephiroth knew, without having to give it thought, that Cloud would never look at their arrangement and be happy, but maybe her other comrades wouldn't feel so hostile to him.

He still had yet to prove himself to Aerith, however- a feat that seemed all the more impossible the longer Sephiroth thought of it. Though it was true he hadn't killed a single person since his resurrection, and had stayed faithfully by Aerith's side, a few good deeds did not clear his record of any of the terrible crimes he had committed. He had saved Aerith's life from the slavers in Wutai, but that didn't mean he felt his debt to her was repaid; he had stolen her life, and everything she had, just to fulfill his greedy, psychotic wish of world domination, and a few well wishes on the side weren't enough to convince anyone else that he was taking on life with different prospects and ideas.

It was almost comical, he began to think, how actually insane his plan had been. Their planet was a miserable one, and even if he had destroyed everything and resurrected it with his own ideas and intentions, spirits were willful things and did as they pleased.

One can easily control a being's actions given the circumstances. It is not, however, often that one can control the thoughts of that being, intelligent or otherwise. A man can bring a monster into a stable to be a pet, but that in no way means the beast will not continue to think like it had in the wild, even if its will is broken.

Sephiroth wanted Aerith to think he was right for her. He wanted to be with her, even if only in her company and not in her arms.

It was with a heavy heart that the general decided that whatever Aerith did would be alright with him, so long as she was truly happy.

That didn't mean, in any way, that he wasn't going to try and win her affection anyway.

Dusk hit the mountains like a cold blanket. Though the sky above the two travelers was still warm and pink, the sun's rays had long since stopped hitting the rocky ground they traversed upon. It was becoming very cold very quickly, and Sephiroth didn't want Aerith to be uncomfortable. She still wore the jacket he had fished out of his pack, but that didn't mean she had stopped rubbing her arms in an up and down motion to stay warm.

Feeling slightly on the lazy side, Sephiroth ignored the notebook and pen in his pocket and instead tapped Aerith on the shoulder. When she turned to look at him, he made a motion toward the tent strapped to his bag, then to the ground. She smiled weakly when she looked up at him, the cold already taking an effect on her strength. "I thought you'd never ask."

As they began to make camp for the for the night, Sephiroth pitching the tent and Aerith gathering what little firewood that could be found on the barren mountainside, the general noticed something that posed a small problem; they hadn't purchased another tent when they were re-supplying in Rocket Town. When he thought of it, Sephiroth knew they had left Aerith's tent back in Junon, before she had been kidnapped. Sephiroth traveled with most of their belongings in his bag- Aerith was to carry the food and medicine. Back in Junon, Sephiroth hadn't bothered to go back to the hotel and retrieve anything from their room, for he had been too fixated on saving Aerith to think of much else. It was pure luck on his part that anything important as far as personal matters was tucked neatly inside of his own backpack.

When Aerith returned from her small trek of gathering firewood (she had managed to get quite a bit, in spite of the fact that there was little to no vegetation on the mountainside), Sephiroth showed her the note he had spent several minutes pondering how exactly to word.

'We left your tent in Junon, in the hotel. What should we do?'

Aerith's visage became scrunched for a moment before she let out an abrupt giggle. "You know, when we were in Rocket Town, the thought didn't even cross my mind. I guess we are just going to have to share."

The thought sounded fantastic to Sephiroth, but he wasn't about to admit it out loud. The real problem on Sephiroth's mind was whether or not he would be able to sleep next to Aerith and, much like they had ended up in the boat, wake up in another awkward position. Though he was certain he wouldn't much mind waking up snuggled against her again, attempting to explain why, exactly, he would be sporting an ear-to-ear grin while holding her close would prove to be a rather large problem. Sephiroth wanted to win her affections, not scare her away because he couldn't contain himself. With such a mindset dwindling over his conscious train of thought, he decided that to attempt to win Aerith over too fast wouldn't be in either of their interests. They were, after all, still stuck traveling together, whether or not Aerith returned his affections. Taking it slow was the only possible way for Sephiroth to figure out if Aerith felt anything for him in return without making the rest of their journey together awkward. If he merely told her he loved her and she didn't feel the same way in return: oh, how complex their living conditions might come to be.

It was only after supper had been eaten and the fire had been put out for the night did the two venture into the tent. Aerith scuttled in first to change into her pajamas which, much to Sephiroth's surprise, consisted of a pair of snug-fitting sweatpants and a form-fitting sweater. When she had changed, she popped her head out of the tent and inquired as to what Sephiroth was to wear for bed. Shrugging, he merely pointed to his pants, indicating that he didn't need to change into anything, and followed her inside the tent.

Sephiroth waited for Aerith to snuggle up into her sleeping bag before he removed his shoes and sat on the opposing side of the tent upon his own sleeping bag. The small battery-powered lantern they had managed to hang from the support pole of the tent swung lightly as Sephiroth zipped the tent from his sleeping bag. As he turned, he watched Aerith take the ribbon from her hair. Her caramel-colored tresses cascaded down her shoulders and hid her face under a slight curtain. Sephiroth looked on while she quietly brushed her hair, careful to untangle any knots, and pulled it up into a neat bun that rested on the back of her neck. By the time she had finished pinning the bun in her hair, Sephiroth had removed the black turtleneck-like sweater from over his simple blue t-shirt, then the t-shirt itself, folded everything neatly, and placed the clothing near the end of his sleeping bag.

When he felt Aerith tap on his shoulder, he turned and was promptly presented with a toothbrush. He held out his hand and glanced up at Aerith, questioningly. She merely shrugged in response. "Just because we are camping doesn't mean we can't take care of ourselves." Again, she shrugged, this time looking more sheepish. "I forgot toothpaste, though, so it's just for rinsing I guess."

Nodding his head, Sephiroth took out their canteen from his backpack and handed it to Aerith. Promptly sticking the toothbrush in his mouth, he swishes the dry bristles about. When it was his turn to use the canteen for a quick rinse, Sephiroth gleefully noticed that Aerith was looking at his bare chest out of the corner of her eyes while she brushed, all the while looking absent-minded. If there was one thing Sephiroth was proud of, it was his well-toned body. His abs always managed to grab the wandering eyes of on-looking women, and he was greatly pleased by the fact that Aerith had demonstrated such a human trait as noticing appearance when it came to the opposing gender. Sephiroth wasn't one to boast, but his body was in top physical condition and he knew it. Aerith might not have had much contact with men who didn't wear wife-beater shirts or have beer bellies that hung out so far it looked as if they were pregnant outside of the slum (Cloud and Zax, and perhaps the occasional Turk, he was sure, were the exceptions), and Sephiroth decided backpedaling might be a good step. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. After taking a small gulp of water to rinse down the taste of stale toothbrush, he rummaged through his pack and donned one of the few clean shirts he had left. It was a simple, v-necked dark crimson-colored long-sleeved shirt, but its simplicity was why Sephiroth liked it. He had been purposefully avoiding wearing it until he had an occasion to dress in something nice, but once he put a little thought into the idea he realized how silly saving the shirt for such an occasion was. They were running away from Cloud, and camping. Being picky about what he was wearing wasn't something Sephiroth should concern himself with under the given circumstances.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Aerith was still staring at him under her dark lashes. He watched as she attempted to busy herself by picking the dirt from under her nails, but Sephiroth knew better.

He glanced at the small watch that was cleverly attached to their lantern. It spewed digital numbers, informing the general that it was only a quarter past nine. Sephiroth then turned and faced Aerith, knowing full well that she was just as awake as he was. There was no use hiding it- had either of them been sleepy, instead of tired and cold from their hike, one of them would have laid down, zipped up their sleeping bag, and dozed off already.

"Well," Aerith looked around the tent. It was obvious that she didn't know what to say.

Though he admittedly didn't want to ask Aerith the question that was plaguing him, he truly had no choice. What if they weren't able to get time alone like this again? He took out his notebook and carefully wrote Aerith a small series of questions in which he could no longer hold back. Handing her his notebook, Sephiroth took a deep breath and prepared for the worse.

'I need to know if you are unhappy traveling with me. If that is the case, we can go our separate ways and I won't bother you any longer. Your reaction today demonstrated a level of emotional turmoil you seem to be forcing yourself through for me. I'm not worth the trouble, truly, and I know how you miss your friends.'

Sephiroth watched Aerith read the note several times over. It felt like a millennium had passed in the time it took her to respond.

"What would you do, where would you go, were I to leave you?"

It was not the answer Sephiroth was prepared for. He hadn't assumed Aerith would throw herself at him like some love-sick harlot, but he hardly assumed she would answer his own series of questions with one of her own, much less in such a cold tone.

Taking the notebook back, he took several moments preparing his answer.

'Staying in one place is not for me, unless I have something that makes me want to stay. Back in Mideel, I stayed because you asked me to, because I felt the need to take care of you. I now see that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself and you, in fact, don't need me. I would most likely continue traveling the world. There are many places that I still wish to visit that I was never able to enjoy previously.'

Aerith looked puzzled after reading his response to her question. "I don't hate you, if that's what you think. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

He shook his head and passed another message.

'I know that you merely let your emotions get the better of you. I, however, meant what I said about you not needing me. You can take care of yourself; I can see that far better than anyone previously, I am sure. If it is in your interest to leave, I will not stop you. You miss your friends and loved ones, and I am neither.'

She began shaking her head before she finished reading the message. "You are my friend. Why would you think otherwise? I do care about you; if I didn't, I would have left you high and dry back in Mideel." She stopped for a moment and laughed. Then, she smiled. "Please don't think that I hate you, because I really don't. Things are just so strange. Everything is always so complicated between you and me. I don't know what to think sometimes."

Sephiroth sent another scribbled message her way.

'What, then, am I to you, Aerith?'

Unexpected though it may have been for both of them, Sephiroth was very proud of himself for finally digging up enough courage to simply ask her. Beating around the bush was never going to get him what he wanted. If she said something in the positive, he would continue to try his best at winning her affections. If she said something in the negative, he would continue to try and win her affections anyway, though all the more slowly and with all the patience and persistence he could muster.

The question was there, out in the open, thrown to the wind unkindly and without remorse. Sephiroth eagerly studied Aerith as she fiddled with the corner of his little green notebook, refusing to meet his eyes.

"What are you to me?" Finally, she met his eyes. Sparkling emotion glittered in her irises like the moon shines on the sea. "What are you to me?" She repeated herself. "Sephiroth, I don't think that's the right question. It doesn't matter what you are to me. What am I to you?"

A million different answers swirled through Sephiroth's consciousness. What was she to him? How about all that was good in the world; everything he needed and nothing he didn't; perfection in flesh. Oh sweet Shiva, her worth couldn't be personified by words alone.

His hand hesitated. Was it truly the moment to tell her how he felt? Taking a deep breath, he began to write.

'You mean much more to me, Aerith, than you seem to know.'

Sephiroth could feel his heart skip several beats as he held his breath and waited for a response from his flower girl. He could feel his throat go dry while he eagerly awaited some sort of reaction.

The moment Aerith reached out to him, Sephiroth found his body responding without command; he immediately leaned toward her. What he was hoping for, what he was thinking, was suddenly lost as she placed her hands on either side of his face. He closed his eyes when he felt her rosy lips press against his forehead, not bothering to open them when she pulled away. Her hands left his cheeks feeling warm and pleasant.

"I forgive you, Sephiroth, but I need some time to think."

His eyes snapped open. Whatever emotion he let slip across his face must have, he was sure, looked pathetic, for Aerith gently stroked his cheek once more.

"I'm confused about a few things, and I need to sort them out before I can be honest with you. I need to be honest with myself before I can be truthful to anyone else, let alone you. I'm sorry."

Sephiroth hadn't imagined that Aerith would react in such a way, but somewhere in the back of his mind he was contemplating how he could have made everything easier for her. Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything at all. He gently took her hand in his own and patted the back of it, forcing a small smile to his lips. He nodded several times in silent understanding.

She smiled in return. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

When Sephiroth met Aerith's apology with a shake of his head, her smile grew. Slowly, she retracted her hand and clicked off the lantern. Though the tent was filled with darkness thereafter, as well as Aerith's meek "good night," Sephiroth didn't bother to scuttle under his own sleeping bag. He sat up and remained still until he heard Aerith's body relax and her breathing slow with the steady in and out of sleep. Managing to move without so much as the slightest of sounds, it was mere moments after Aerith had fallen asleep that Sephiroth was outside of the tent, striding down the mountainside as fast as his legs could carry him.

As soon as he was out of sight of the tent, he picked up a pine cone and threw it with all of his might into the distance. He balled his fists and shook them several times in the air, wishing with all of his being that he had a voice to scream with and something to break.

Running a hand through his hair, Sephiroth forced himself to calm down. He took a moment to inhale deeply and decided the best course of action was to pace slowly until his emotions settled. It scared him slightly, as he calmed himself, to realize just what kind of outbursts he was still capable of. Sorting through his memory, he could honestly say that it had been years since his last outburst. Emotion, even anger, wasn't something that came easily to him or was easy for him to express.

Forcing himself to take several more deep breaths, he began to contemplate just how childish he was truly acting. Aerith hadn't, after all, rejected him; she merely needed time to think and to sort her heart out. Such a reaction was hardly worthy of the temper tantrum Sephiroth demonstrated.

Sephiroth came to realize that Aerith sorting out her heart, as well as her mind he was sure, hardly meant that she still had feelings for Cloud. While she had reminded Sephiroth of the life he had stolen from her, she and Cloud were hardly involved romantically. Cloud, after all, was a little too thick headed to understand women and how they worked. Sephiroth remembered how, when he used to spy on the blonde and his friends, Aerith would often seem interested in things that most women wouldn't give a second thought to; she had her own, naïve way of flirting, it seemed. To note, however, that Cloud never caught on to her advances was an understatement; not only did he not advance upon her subtle passes, he hadn't noticed she was making them. At all.

Though he wished he could get the possibility of Aerith missing Cloud out of his head, the thought clung to his consciousness and refused to let get the hell off of his train of thought. Sephiroth had decided that whatever Aerith wished to do would be fine with him, even if her chosen future didn't involve him. Cloud, however, had never been factored into the problem, and Sephiroth was not able to find a single solution to his dilemma. If Aerith found someone she could be happy with, then all was well for Sephiroth; and if she was happy with him, all the better. But Cloud? Sweet Shiva, someone had it out for the poor general.

His pacing slowed, though his mind raced with new possibilities, most of which were drowning in the negative end of the idea pool. Killing Cloud, though most satisfying Sephiroth was to be sure, was out of the question. Aerith would be most cross with him for breaking his promise. Add Aerith's anger to the idea that it, in and of itself, was not a good idea completely ruled out Sephiroth killing the blonde (though however satisfying it might turn out to be, he needed to prove that he was a changed person, a good man, and good men do not kill people). Running away forever didn't seem like that good of an idea, either. Sephiroth could survive off of hunted monster and wild berries without a care in the world. Aerith, however, seemed more attached to worldly comforts than he. With Cloud most likely wanting to kill him and take his flower girl away, Sephiroth was more than positive that to stop traveling would mean some sort of end for him.

He didn't want to leave Aerith's side. Sephiroth knew right away that if Aerith were to become unhappy in some way, he wanted to be the one to fix it either as a friend, or perhaps something more- it didn't matter, so long as he could be around her.

The one thing he was certain of, however, was that Aerith needed her time. Rushing her would only lead to rushed decisions, and Sephiroth wanted to be absolutely sure that whatever Aerith did was exactly what she wanted, regardless of how he felt. More than anything, he wanted to be sure that whatever choice she made would be entirely of her own accord, not influenced by guilt or her constant need to please others.

He spent the entire night pacing and thinking. It was well past dawn when he returned to camp. Though he had attempted to stay quiet while building a fire, the crack of the burning wood must have finally woken up his sleepy flower maiden.

Sephiroth watched as she rubbed her eyes and looked around. She smiled when her gaze met his. "I'm sorry about last night."

It was an awkward thing to say in the place of 'good morning,' but Sephiroth knew Aerith was never one to beat around the bush much. He merely shrugged and placed another branch on the fire.

"I mean it. I'm sorry. I miss my friends and want to see them, that's all."

Sephiroth looked to the fire, slightly confused. Had she truly not been secretly pining over Cloud while in his presence? Had he wasted an entire night of sleep fretting over nothing?

Zipping the tent behind her, though not bothering to lace up her large, clunky boots, Sephiroth watched while she made her way to the opposing side of the fire.

"I don't think that anyone is really going to ever be ready to see me again, though. I mean, with us having been dead and all…"

A small smiled managed to surface upon Sephiroth's tight-lipped visage for a mere second. He could feel her eyes on him, and so he looked up to meet her gaze, not sure what he should expect.

She smiled at him, and tilted her head. "Please don't think that I would ever leave you. I like your company, and I'm sorry I freaked outside of Rocket Town." Suddenly, she made a face. "I mean, you know what it's like to miss a friend, right? It just hurts a little."

It took a moment for Sephiroth to think of someone he missed who wasn't Aerith. Zax had been the closest thing he had to a friend. It was true; at times Sephiroth did think of him and a little twinge of sadness would pull at his heart strings, but nothing violent enough to compare to how Aerith seemed to feel about her friends. Perhaps it was because she was far closer to Cloud and his friends than Sephiroth had been to Zax. He had seen Zax as a comrade, a fellow Soldier, but not much else. They talked of women, of politics, of money and literature, but nothing that two strangers wouldn't talk about had they just met and were merely passing the time.

"I think, though," Aerith interrupted, "that I would miss you much more were we to separate."

Again, Sephiroth looked up to meet Aerith's eyes, but her gaze was intensely set toward the rocky ground. Had she truly said what he thought she had said?

Did he honest to goodness have a chance to win her affections; her heart; her love?

A feeling so profound that, even if he had the ability to speak, Sephiroth doubted that he would have been able to explain it in mere words filled his chest with warmth and the sheer feeling of floating. He wanted to tell her how he felt.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her.

But it wasn't the time, nor the place, and neither of them were truly ready for the ramifications those three little words could do quite yet.

Sephiroth smiled to himself and stood up. He began to rifle through their backpack in order to find something to cook for breakfast.

If he left, she would miss him; that was enough for the moment.


	37. Anguish

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Author's Note: All facts mentioned near the end of this chapter regarding Sephiroth's origins are factual- I have cited several sources, including Wikipedia as well as actual events from the FF7 spin-off Dirge of Cerberus- most of the factual evidence was taken from the game, as well as articles pertains to that specific game. If you remain unconvinced, please bear in mind that this is, after all, fan fiction, and to this point I have attempted to stay on track as far as events and previously unmentioned parts of Final Fantasy 7 series go (like how Sephiroth knew Zax- it was a little known fact that the two knew one another previous of the game until Crisis Core was announced, and since the synopsis of the game has yet to be delved deeply into it is up to the fans who are unable to obtain such resources to play the story out as they see fit).

Chapter 37: Anguish

The bitter wind had spent the entirety of the day screaming in Sephiroth's face; his cheeks were pink and raw to prove the mountain's contempt for those who wished to cross its dangerous peaks. His traveling companion looked no better; though Aerith's cheeks normally held quite a pretty rosy hue to them, throughout the day they had taken on a rather red, raw color. Sephiroth imagined that it must have been slightly painful for her, but there was little that could have been done to prevent it- they each had already fashioned one of their extra pieces of clothing around their neck and lips. They looked silly, but Sephiroth was certain he would rather be caught looking ridiculous than have to suffer through anymore windburn.

The sun was cruel and offered little in the way of warmth. It hung in the sky almost mockingly, lighting the path of the travelers, though it stayed too high up to warm anything. Knowing it wouldn't do any good, save for making him feel better, Sephiroth cursed whatever deity was charged with the Sun. Ifrit was a good candidate- the general cursed the fire demon. Just to stay on the safe side, he mentally chided Bahamut as well.

The only appeasing thing the terrible weather offered was peace of mind, though only at times Sephiroth was able to forget about the frigid wind. Aerith wasn't able to do much with conversation; her mouth and face were mostly covered by the shirt that kept the cold from her lungs. What little skin that peeked out was an attractive color of rose. It gave Sephiroth a long while to think, not that he hadn't had plenty of time to think the previous night, though his mind didn't churn up any new ideas about winning Aerith's affections.

At long last were they able to remove their makeshift scarves and hats and breathe. The air of the inner mountain pass was stale but was not painful to inhale; it wasn't freezing and thusly welcome.

Aerith stretched her hands over hear head, and the general noticed that her fingertips were a ghastly shade of pink. Had she been clinging to the scarf around her face so tightly? He couldn't have done much for her windburn, but for the cold? Perhaps he could have done more. Feeling a twinge of regret that he hadn't noticed how cold she had been earlier, Sephiroth fished through his bags and managed to find a sweater for her to wear. It was his, and even though he rather the liked the idea of her wearing his clothing, he wouldn't be one to admit it quite yet, or at least out loud. He was pleased that it would offer her a little more warmth. When he handed it to her, she accepted it without hesitation, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the cold. "Thank you."

It was only after she donned the sweater that Sephiroth noticed her curious gaze. "Are you sure you're warm enough?"

He held up a hand and shook his head; yes, his face and his hands were quite cold, but that was due to the fact that they had been exposed to the frosty-win and bitter mountain air. The rest of him that had thankfully been covered by cloth had stayed warm enough not to bother him much. He felt rather terrible admitting it to himself, but that was the reason he hadn't noticed how cold Aerith had become; he was used to the frost of the mountains. Never before had he been forced to think of the comfort of another person, and so his mind didn't much wander toward how chilled his flower girl might have become. The rest of their traveling, albeit the small cold spell they had encountered while venturing into Midgar, had been through mostly warm weather. Body temperature was not something Sephiroth thought of on his own, and so it hadn't truly registered in his mind that Aerith might have been cold.

"Can we take a break?" Aerith's voice was hopeful, but gentle; she was tired, but the tone she used when she spoke told Sephiroth that, had he wished it, they could have continued to travel.

He wouldn't be one to deny her much of anything she asked him, least something a silly as small break after they had found refuge from the wind. Sephiroth hardly thought that Cloud could have followed them so far in two days. The fishing boat they had boarded passage on hadn't been going to the coast of Rocket Town until the morning they had left Wutai, and it would be hard pressed to find them again; after they had unloaded their catch at the pier, Sephiroth was sure they had headed directly back out to sea. With a catch as good as that which had they acquired, how could they have not been greedy for more? Besides, no one in Rocket Town would have recognized them- not with all of the faces out on the street that day for the celebration. What was thirty minutes to rest and eat? Sephiroth nodded, placing his back pack next to the small, flat rock he decided to sit upon.

Aerith had much of the same idea, and flopped down across from him atop another flat rock. The stone in which she sat was higher off the ground that the one Sephiroth sat upon, and so Aerith's dainty feet swung with relief off the edge, hardly an inch off the ground. He watched as she sighed heavily, thankful for the refuge the innermost sanctum of the mountain offered.

"It's nice here, when then wind isn't beating my face, the cold isn't taking the air from my lungs, and the monsters aren't trying to eat me."

Sephiroth smiled more to himself at her comment than to her. She was so sweet, and so innocent- she could still see beauty in the most dangerous and dreadful of places. When Aerith looked around, he noticed, she perceived the beauty in things, no matter how rugged or decayed they were. In caves she never seemed to see the bones that littered the floor or the scratch marks that covered the walls, much like what they were surrounded by. Sephiroth mused to himself that she most likely saw the walls glittering with minerals, the stalactites and stalagmites shimmering with wetness. She had, after all, seen more to him than anyone else had bothered to notice, so perhaps her naiveté wasn't such a bad thing. He had never been much of the optimist, after all. The glass mostly stayed half empty in the realm of his previous life.

He supposed that, in its own unique way, the cave was very beautiful.

After much looking around, Sephiroth turned his attention back to Aerith's needs. Food was something his body had never previous required on a daily basis, and in all honesty he had been eating regular meals with Aerith so that she would not worry about his condition. Because he had begun to so much every day, his body seemed to slowly become used to the consumption of food and was now something his stomach occasionally made noises over, though not often. Keeping warm seemed to have taken a little more energy than he thought, and so he set to dig through his back pack for something nourishing that the two of them could share.

Dried meat, an apple each, and a handful of nuts with dried berries was hardly a meal, but Aerith didn't complain about what she had been given. Sephiroth assumed that she, too, knew they were close to Nibelheim and would be eating a hot meal and resting at the inn before night took over the mountainside. They ate their meal in silence, Sephiroth lacking the ability to carry on conversation and Aerith happily chewing a piece of jerky while looking around at the rest of the cave, apparently blissful and unaware of much else around her.

They finished their lunch and gathered their things, Sephiroth glad they no longer had to wear random pieces of clothing around their faces like scarves.

But before they began to walk much further, Sephiroth's ears picked up on the most peculiar sound; it was noise of two pairs of feet, walking toward them and around the bend of the cave hardly ten feet in front of them.

The hair on the back of Sephiroth's neck stood straight up.

The heavy shuffle of boots, whose owners sounded most wary, echoed throughout the pass. Sephiroth looked behind him to motion for Aerith to stay near his back, but she didn't need the direction; she was already huddled up near his side, peering cautiously in front of them.

Cautious was the only thing left for the pair to be- after all they had gone through, passing travelers could end up being much more than mere hikers. Voices sounded, and Sephiroth and Aerith waited and listened.

To Sephiroth, the voices sounded slightly familiar. Carefully, he tuned the harsh ring of the wind out and focused on what the voices were saying.

"They aren't going to come through here; you know it as well as I. He's out of his mind."

"Whatever. You can think what you want, and I can think anything I want, okay? If I want to think she's back, I can think it all I want. It's not hurting you. You're such a grump."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He had heard those voices somewhere before, of that he was sure. It was only when he heard Aerith intake a sharp breath did he realize who the voices belonged to- the ex-Turk, and the annoying Wutai girl; Cloud's friends, most likely set to watch the pass for activity based off what Sephiroth could gather from their small conversation.

Perhaps it was the howl of the wind that had dulled Sephiroth hearing, or perhaps he was merely losing his edge; no matter what the reason, neither Sephiroth nor Aerith had enough time to react to the pair of feet that had suddenly jumped into view.

Would they be hostile? Sephiroth couldn't take chances, not with Aerith behind him. Moving the both of them would have required quite a bit of work, and he was certain they would be caught before they would be able to retreat to a safe distance. With no other solution in sight, Sephiroth drew his mighty Masamune in one silent, lightning-fast movement and moved his feet to position himself in his fighting stance. He would not advance, not with Aerith so near him, but he would not retreat, either.

It was several moments before actual reactions occurred. Four pairs of eyes gazed intently around, and if Sephiroth didn't know any better he would have sworn that he could see both of the stranger's minds shut off for a mere fraction of a second.

When the circumstances were finally registered, numerous things happened at once; the self-proclaimed ninja shrieked and scrunched over while covering her head; the ex-Turk, who Sephiroth suddenly remembered to be a gunman, drew his three-barrel shotgun and aimed it directly at Sephiroth's head; Sephiroth stood straight and remained perfectly still with his katana carefully raised and ready to strike were anyone to move; Aerith gasped and took several steps back. Everything occurred within the time span of roughly a few seconds, though it felt like the world was turning in slow motion.

It was another few moments before anyone really comprehended what was happening. Aerith was the one who broke the silence. "Vincent! Don't shoot!"

Sephiroth watched as the gunman, Vincent, slowly inhaled deeply, obviously trying to calm himself. "This isn't possible. You can't be who you appear to be."

The ninja looked up, obviously shaking. Her eyes widened when her gaze fell from Sephiroth to the flower girl. "Aerith?" Her voice was quivering, and Sephiroth wasn't sure that anyone else had heard her whisper. She spoke louder, despite the shake still obvious in her speech. "Is that really you? Cloud wasn't lying?"

The general could practically hear Aerith's smile. "It's me Yuffie, I promise!" Rushing past Sephiroth before he could even take note of her flight, Aerith ran past the general and straight into the arms of the trembling girl. "Oh, Yuffie- I missed you so much!"

Sephiroth, though completely aware of the reunion between the two girls, refused to take his eyes off of the red-caped man in front of him. He flexed his grip on Masamune, hoping to look somewhat threatening.

It was apparent the ex-Turk meant business. "What is he doing with you, Aerith?" Vincent didn't waste anytime on sappy hugs or smiles. His voice was cold and monotone.

"Vincent, please put your gun away." Sephiroth watched Aerith stand up from the corner of his eye; she still had her arms around the younger girl, Yuffie. "Please, he doesn't mean you any harm."

Vincent's eyes grew in diameter and his nostrils flared slightly. "What on the planet are you talking about? This is the mad man who killed you, not to mention tried to kill everyone else, and you expect me to believe that?"

Aerith immediately let go of the ninja and nearly sprinted to Sephiroth's side. She pulled at his arm, impatiently. "Put that damn thing away! Put it away so they'll know you aren't going to hurt anyone!"

Sephiroth shot Aerith a glance that was full of annoyance and anger, but she shot him back her own gaze, full of venom and impatience. "Do it or they'll never listen! Please!"

He wouldn't deny her, not when she said 'please' in such a sweet yet stubborn manner. Protecting her was his first priority, and if sheathing Masamune was part of that protection, he was willing to do it (though he really didn't see how being unarmed was going to help his chances of survival much, especially when he was looking down the business end of a shotgun held by a rather cold-blooded looking man).

The gunman's eyebrows shot to the sky when Sephiroth did what Aerith asked of him. Sephiroth watched the gun lower a few inches, no longer aiming for his head. The shot would still be fatal, however, at the height it was still raised to.

"Vincent?" Yuffie's voice was trembling. "What are we going to do?"

Aerith held up her hands and waved them in the air. "Please don't tell Cloud! Oh, please, Vincent!"

Sephiroth eyed the cape-clad man. He noticed the gun shift slightly; Vincent was hesitating. "Prove you are who you say you are. Tell us something that no one else would know."

A test? Sephiroth had put his sword away already- what else did the man want? Nevertheless, he watched Aerith bit her lip in concentration. "Vincent: you were an ex-Turk. We found you in a coffin in the basement of the Shinra Mansion, sleeping. You didn't show much interest in us until we mentioned Sephiroth's name, and the Shinra as well. Yuffie: you stole all of our materia right after we got the Tiny Bronco and went to see Wutai. We had to save you from that sleaze-ball, Don Corneo. The Turks were there, too, and they helped us out a little."

Vincent's eyes searched Yuffie's eyes for answers. He then turned to Aerith, searching her gaze for the truth. He found it, as Sephiroth was sure he would, and the gunman eventually lowered his weapon, though it never ventured back into its holster. "I think that we all need to sit down and have a little chat." Sephiroth understood this meant that no final decisions of notifying Cloud had been made. Sephiroth didn't want to have to run, but if it meant meeting up with Cloud again, he would gladly throw Aerith over his shoulder and run as far as his legs would carry him, and as far as they would allow. They could hide in the woods, if the circumstances called for it. He would not, however, put Aerith in danger. If Cloud killed him, Aerith would, in turn, die.

Vincent nodded to Sephiroth, motioning him to allow the ladies to walk first. Sephiroth watched as Aerith twined her fingers together with that of the Wutain girl. He noticed that Yuffie kept turning her head to look at him, cautiously. This, however, obviously did not deter her from the joy that sprouted up in her smile when she turned back to Aerith and began to chat.

While they walked down the small mountain pathway and neared the city, Sephiroth grew all the more uncomfortable. Vincent had not allowed him to walk free; the gunman had his weapon drawn and pointed straight at the back of the general's shock of silver hair. No chances, it seemed, were to be risked. Much to his own contempt and discomfort, Sephiroth understood why Vincent had his gun ready; he used to be quite a dangerous man. Shiva, he still was a dangerous man. This, however, did not make walking with the prospect of a shotgun less than ten feet from the back of his head any less enjoyable.

At least he was out of the blasted cold.

The rest of the day was mostly a blur to Sephiroth. They had reached the old Shinra Mansion at the foot of the mountains after hardly a hike (compared to the rest of their trek, that is) and had ventured inside. The once abandoned building had been fixed up, which was a surprise to Sephiroth; the walls were free of dust and dirt, new carpeting covered areas of the newly polished hard-wood flooring, and new furniture, though miss-matched as it was, made the rooms feel comfortable. The house no longer sent chills down Sephiroth's spine; it was very livable.

He vaguely remembered being served tea as Aerith recounted the story of their first meeting in no space, how they had ended up in Mideel, of how Sephiroth was without a voice, of nearly running into Cloud, and of Aerith's most recent kidnapping (she thankfully left out the part where cross-dressing was involved). Sephiroth was more concerned with the gun that was still casually pointed in his general direction, and so he paid little attention and failed to process most of what Aerith was saying.

"You truly cannot speak?" Vincent's voice was curious.

Sephiroth merely shot the man a dirty look and then rolled his eyes, looking away. As if I wasn't obvious he lacked a voice- Sephiroth had quite a mouthful to say to Vincent, and it was obvious he wished he were able to spit some kind of verbal venom based off the looks he was sending the gun.

Aerith continued the conversation as if she were the one the question had been directed to. "He can't talk at all. He's been using a notebook to communicate with me, through writing."

To this, Vincent raised an eyebrow.

Yuffie, much to Sephiroth's satisfaction, stayed quite through most of Aerith's explanation. She sat in silence on the couch, scrunched close to Aerith. Sephiroth watched her take a quite sip of tea from time to time. He had always thought her to be a little too chatty; loud-mouthed was the polite term, it was to be believed.

When Yuffie spoke, it was to answer a direct question Vincent had asked her: "What do you think we should do?"

Watching her heave a heavy sigh, Sephiroth shifted in his chair and waited, anxiously, for Yuffie to answer. Finally, she looked up and met Vincent's gaze.

"I don't think we should call Cloud. And I think we should let them stay here, too."

It was Sephiroth's turn to allow shock sneak upon his visage and take over. His eyebrows raised, he slowly sat back in his chair and waited for some sort of further explanation from the ninja. She offered no such thing; Yuffie took an additional sip from her tea cup, and then placed it on the coffee table. She pulled Aerith to her feet, and Sephiroth noticed how surprised his flower girl also looked. It was apparent that Aerith had been thinking most of the same thoughts regarding their fate as he had; that her friends were going to call on Cloud. "You need a bath." It was a rather sudden announcement from the ninja. Aerith followed Yuffie out of the room without protest, shock abundant on her face..

Being alone with Vincent, a gun pointed straight at his face, was more than a little uncomfortable for the general. When he moved to retrieve his only means of communication, he could hear Vincent's sharp intake of breath. Not paying attention to the man in the least, Sephiroth carried on what he was doing and pulled his notebook and one of the pens from his backpack. He scribbled a message on it, placed it on the coffee table, and then slid it across the wood varnish and towards the gunman who was positioned to pounce.

'Are you going to keep that thing staring me in the face forever, or am I allowed to wash up as well?'

Vincent slid the notebook back across the table. Sephiroth caught it with ease, shooting the gun and its owner another indignant look.

Sephiroth watched Vincent's inner turmoil play out in his dark eyes. The man was confused- the look on his face gave way to the emotions and thoughts running through his mind.

Finally, though obviously ill at ease, Vincent lowered his gun.

Sephiroth wrote another message, though this one was slightly longer, and passed it across the table.

'I will not harm you, the girl, or anyone else. Do you think Aerith would award me her trust so easily after all that has passed? She trusts me- you should too, though I don't care much if you decide to or not. It's your choice. On the other hand, I am rather tired and would appreciate a place to rest. Have you a room for me to occupy, or should I find a couch that suits my comfort?'

Sephiroth wasn't one for formalities. However, in the gunman's presence, he would be nothing but ceremonial. Vincent was Aerith's friend, not his. He wanted little to do with Vincent. It wasn't a matter of Sephiroth not liking Vincent; the general knew that because Aerith had liked him enough to be his friend, Vincent must not have been too terrible of a person. But that, therein, was the problem; Sephiroth didn't know Vincent, or the ninja girl for that matter, and held little in the line of wishes to better acquaint them. He would force himself to get along with the odd pair whom Aerith had once been close to, but other than getting along Sephiroth doubted that he could do little in the matter of becoming friends.

It wasn't that Sephiroth disliked the idea of having friends. Zax had been the closest thing he ever had to a friend, and the fellow soldier was, to say the least, pleasant to be around and talk to. The problem that had situated itself in front of Sephiroth was a rather awkward one. He had made amends with Aerith for the things he had done in his previous life. For some reason she had trusted him from the moment they met in no-space, after they had both passed beyond the world of the living. Making amends with her friends was not something the great general was ready to deal with yet.

Apparently not taking the formality in Sephiroth's note to heart, Vincent shrugged and stood up. "There are a few rooms that we can lend you for a while."

Sephiroth followed Vincent down the small hallway of the upper floor. He watched Vincent's reaction to walking in front of him, and Sephiroth thought it was rather amusing: Vincent's back muscles were tight, though his hands were relaxed and at his side. It was as if he feared and did not fear Sephiroth's presence at the same time. Stopping at the second to the last doorway in the hall, Vincent opened the door and allowed Sephiroth to proceed before him into the room.

The room was large, with a four-post bed set against the middle of one wall so as the headboard was against the wall with the three remaining sides being open and facing no sort of blockade. Two regal dressers sat on either side of the bed, and on each sat an equally regal desk lamp. A small but elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling, the light bulbs made in such a way to look as though they were fire when the lights were turned on. The window on the opposing side of the room let the soft glow of the setting sun in.

It was cozy, but Sephiroth noticed no sighs that the room had been lived in. There was little to no dust on the dressers, and the sheets on the bed looked tight enough that he believed were he to throw a Gil coin on the bed, it would likely bounce off and hit the ceiling. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to take a running jump on a bed like that, though he quickly tucked away the almost childish thought.

Turning, he bowed to the looming gunman in the door. One last message would get Vincent out of his hair. 'I'm tired. Perhaps you could tell Aerith that I've decided to turn in early?'

Vincent handed Sephiroth the notebook back and nodded, shutting the door behind him as he went.

Finally reveling in some time to himself, Sephiroth placed his bag on the bed and began rummaging through it. The room, though cozy, felt empty; he was glad he had decided to keep several things Aerith would most likely call him silly for having in his backpack. He placed a single seashell, a sand dollar, on the dresser to the right of the bed, the one nearest the door. Next to that, he set a pure white feather. Though he knew not what kind of bird the feather came from, Sephiroth was pleased with its clean and beautiful appearance. It was soft, as well, and felt good when he ran it across his fingers.

He placed his bag on the floor after having properly decorated the side of his bed-stand to his liking. It was not much, but he had little to work with. Despite this, the room felt more like his room had back in the cottage he had shared with Aerith in Mideel. It was strange, he mused, that he would be able to sleep in a bed again. Nearly three months had passed since the last night he and Aerith had slept under the roof of the house the kind doctor had given them. Removing his boots, Sephiroth stretched out on the bed and slipped his hands behind his head, crossing his fingers to make a weave for the back of his head to rest in. He began to think of Aerith, of what she might be doing in the company of the ninja, and how long they would stay in the town with her old friends. It was strange to him to have a stable roof over his head where he didn't have to pay a nightly fee of one hundred Gil to sleep.

He wasn't sure when, exactly, he had drifted off to sleep, yet somehow he knew the knock that had woken him up had been Aerith. It was strange how he was able to seek out her presence with his senses, without really looking for her. Perhaps it was because of how close they had become as of late, or perhaps it was because of Sephiroth's feelings toward her. They hadn't, since Junon and Wutai, been separated, and even then when he had searched for her unconscious form at the docks it was somewhat effortless to find her.

Sephiroth opened the door on the second knock, rubbing his eyes and turning on the light.

Aerith smiled up at him when the door opened. "I was on my way to the restroom and thought that I would check up on you." She tilted her head and looked up at him, curiously. "Are you doing alright?"

He nodded, rubbing his other eye. Somehow, he had acquired a slight headache.

"Yuffie and I cooked a little something a while ago. I left a little on the kitchen counter for you, in case you decide you're hungry." Her smile was kind and peaceful.

Despite himself, Sephiroth had to admit he had never witnessed Aerith smile so beautifully. Was it because she was with her friends at long last? A deep surge of guilt swirled in the pit of his stomach.

He watched her tilt her head, staring up at him. Had he let his emotions escape and fall to his face? Had she seen what he had felt in his eyes?

"Are you alright, Sephiroth?"

He quickly covered the guilt on his face with a small smile, just for her. Why was she always so caring? He nodded, hoping she would believe him.

It was obvious she didn't, based off the look she gave him, but she didn't press it much further. "If you're not alright, you know you can tell me. I'm sorry if my being with my friends isn't comfortable for you."

Sephiroth held up his hand, smile still plastered to his face, and shook his head. He didn't want Aerith to worry about him; it wasn't her place. She worried enough for everyone else- she didn't need to worry about how he was feeling. He was uncomfortable around her friends, but he would be damned before he took her happiness away again.

Again, she smiled while she looked up at him. "I trust you, then."

He watched her hesitate for a moment, and then slowly reach a hand up to his face. She placed her palm flat on his cheek, pulling him down to eye level with her brilliant emerald eyes.

When she leaned in, Sephiroth held his breath. As she drew closer, he closed his eyes. She then placed a small kiss atop his forehead. Sephiroth could feel her smile before she pulled away. Still, he didn't open his eyes. "I forgive you, Sephiroth."

He heard her feet carry her down the hallway. Sephiroth waited until he heard a door close before he bothered to open his eyes. Staring down the hallway in the direction he knew she had traveled, he let his emotions get the better of him; he could feel the pain that danced across his face.

Sephiroth hadn't, however, meant anyone else to see it. A floorboard creaked behind him, and the general whipped his head around just in time to see Vincent step from the shadows that lined the stained-glass window at the end of the hall.

"Forgive me for overseeing," the gunman attempted to amend. "I know that wasn't supposed to be something I was meant to witness, but it has given me a better insight into your relationship with her."

Feeling red hot anger begin to bubble inside of his stomach, Sephiroth shot Vincent the nastiest glare he was capable of.

Holding his hands up in defense, Vincent attempted an apology coupled with an excuse. "I'm sorry, but you have to realize where I was coming from: I was merely watching the room, making sure you weren't going to try anything. You understand my caution, I am sure."

This wasn't a conversation the swordsman wanted to have. Feeling somewhat childish, and extremely foolish, Sephiroth all but slammed the door to this room. He paced by his bed several times before he heard Vincent knock on the door. Frustrated, Sephiroth stole a pillow from his bed and threw it at the door. It hit with a loud 'fwoomp' and then slid to the floor.

Vincent took his opportunity to open the door, apparently seeking more in the means of conversation despite Sephiroth's lack of speech. "I didn't mean to anger you, rest assured. If it had been up to me, I wouldn't have watched what happened."

Sephiroth faced the window, his back to the man in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest and began to tap his foot, impatiently, on the wood floor.

Sighing, Vincent's voice sounded slightly defeated. "I promise I didn't mean to trespass. Think of it this way, however; now that I have seen the two of you, and just how close you are, my feeling towards you are not stricken with the animosity they once were. If Aerith can forgive you, perhaps I should treat you better."

Turning his head slightly to the side, an indication that he was interested in what else the gunman had to say, Sephiroth stopped tapping his foot. He curiously raised an eyebrow, wondering if Vincent had anything more to say.

On the subject of Sephiroth and the flower girl, Vincent had nothing else to speak of. His next question threw Sephiroth for quite a loop.

"I have something that you must see before you leave. Will you accompany me to the mountains?"

Sephiroth managed a slight glare in Vincent's direction, making it clear that he didn't trust the ex-Turk.

Vincent shook his head. "Though you have no reason to trust me, you must understand that what I need to show you is something that is more important than you and I, or even Cloud. It's something that's been kept from you, and it's time you learned the truth. Few who are still alive know what really happened, those many years ago."

Damn the gunman; Sephiroth was officially curious.

"Meet me by the front gate in about five minutes. I'll tell the girls that we are going out to have a chat."

Sephiroth was torn- on one hand, while he knew that Vincent must have been a good enough man to befriend Aerith, the general was unsure if he could trust the stranger. However, having not been previously acquainted with the ex-Turk, Sephiroth had little to go on by means of faith in the man. It wasn't that Sephiroth hated Vincent; Sephiroth didn't know him.

The gunman's words, conversely, had been spoken in such a way that they brought Sephiroth's curiosity to a level the swordsman could not easily ignore. It was if Vincent's meaning had been purposely coded- he had said, after all, that few knew of what Sephiroth was apparently meant to see.

Despite the churning of his innards at the prospect of being alone with a man who could quite easily pose a lethal threat to him, Sephiroth decided the best course of action would be to merely follow Vincent and see what it that he was meant to see. Vincent had made mention that he would tell both and Aerith and Yuffie that the two men were going to have 'a chat', words poorly phrased due to Sephiroth's lack of speech capabilities, but understood none the less. This meant that whatever Sephiroth was meant to see was not something that would be so easily shared with the two girls; Sephiroth rather liked the intrigue Vincent's secret posed. It made him feel slightly mysterious, albeit a little important.

And so, after his mind was made up, Sephiroth donned a new set of clothing, his boots, attached Masamune to his belt, and met Vincent by the front door. Not surprised to see that the quiet gunman had already arrived, Sephiroth followed him outside and into the cool of the night.

"We are going to be doing a little running. Am I right in assume you will be able to keep up?"

Sephiroth let a sly grin pass over his lips and flash in Vincent's direction. True, Sephiroth had been traveling with Aerith for several months now, most of the trip on foot. Aerith had not the Soldier training, nor the physical stamina, that Sephiroth had, and so he hadn't pushed her to move faster when it was obvious she was doing all that she could. The general, on the other hand, was still in good condition. Perhaps he would ask the gunman for a race, to see who would have trouble keeping up with who. The idea, however, was short lived when Sephiroth realized he had left his notebook back on the dresser table in his room.

Shrugging, Sephiroth gave Vincent his attention once more.

"Alright, follow me then." There was not so much as a second of hesitation in Vincent's steps as he sped off toward the mountains, Sephiroth a mere fraction of a second behind him. Perhaps it was a good idea that Sephiroth hadn't asked Vincent for a race- he, after all, didn't know where they were going.

Despite the cold wind that bit at his face while he ran, Sephiroth felt most invigorated. It had been a long time since he had been able to move so freely, so quickly. He found himself contemplating if whether or not he was running faster than the wind was blowing. His lungs filled with fresh, cold air, his legs pumping nearly as fast as they could, Sephiroth followed Vincent's precise footsteps as they traveled over the peaks of the barren mountains.

It was rather disappointing when, much to Sephiroth's surprise, their journey came to an abrupt end at the shore of a tiny, hidden lake. In the outcroppings where sand met towering rock that hid the lake, Sephiroth spotted the entrance to a dark cave. It was nestled quietly, above the reach of the water, against the steep cliffs that formed a beautiful circle around the hidden body of water. Had his eyesight not been keen, Sephiroth would have missed it.

How befitting that someone as dark-looking as Vincent would bring him to such a dark-looking cave, Sephiroth mused.

Vincent's body was tense, which in turn made Sephiroth slightly tense. But, to Sephiroth, it didn't seem that Vincent was tense because of his presence- it was the cave that was making him nervous. Sephiroth's interested fully piqued, he walked with almost impatient steps behind Vincent.

They entered the cave which was, much to Sephiroth's surprise, dimly lit by what looked to be tiny, glowing crystals. The rocky growths looked almost like Mythril, but differed in texture and shape from what Sephiroth was used to seeing.

At the end of the long, naturally made hallway, was a room that seemed somewhat man-made. The floor was smooth as cut marble, and the walls reached high arcs that came together in the ceiling.

But it wasn't the room that caught Sephiroth's so much as what was in the room- pressed against the far wall of the space was a large, whole crystalline block, and inside of the crystal slept one of the most beautiful women Sephiroth had ever laid eyes upon.

"Lucrecia," Vincent's voice echoed throughout the room.

Sephiroth turned to the gunman, surprised he had run so far and so fast to merely look upon what seemed to be a perfectly reserved woman resting in rock. It was a grave.

"Lucrecia," Vincent repeated, acting as if Sephiroth wasn't standing next to him. The gunman lowered his head, as if in a respectful manner toward the woman. "Once upon a time, Lucrecia Crescent was a scientist, a Class A biotechnologist under the direction of a man named Grimore Valentine for Shinra. Lucrecia was as smart as she was beautiful, though her dreams of scientific breakthroughs often clouded her common sense. She was nearly perfect, save for her pigheadedness. She worked under Professor Gast, and alongside another- a profoundly twisted man. Assigned to investigate what later became known as the specimen Jenova, I was assigned to be her bodyguard of sorts. She and her fellow scientists falsely believed Jenova to have been of the Cetra race."

Upon hearing Jenova's name, Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. His gaze fell from the woman encased in crystal to the man next to him. What did Vincent know of Jenova, of her secrets, and why would he tell Sephiroth?

A heavy sigh escaped Vincent's lips, though Sephiroth noticed the gunman's gaze never left the face of the woman so beautifully preserved in crystal. "Something happened within the labs, and Grimore was killed. Lucrecia, grief-ridden, believed it to have been her fault. She became cold and distant toward me." Here Vincent paused and let out another deep sigh. "You see, Sephiroth, Grimore was my father, and so when he died Lucrecia couldn't bear to look at me- the guilt swallowed her whole, though I never once blamed her for anything. After my father's death, she began to distance herself from me and instead sought emotional refuge in the man who worked with Professor Gast."

Vincent, much to Sephiroth's surprise, closed his eyes. It looked as if he was fighting something inside of him, be it guilt or anger Sephiroth was unable to distinguish.

After another intake of breath, this one sounding slightly shaken, Vincent continued. "Shortly after she was driven to the arms of Professors Gast's colleague, Lucrecia discovered she was with his child. I tried to stop what they were planning, but the father shot me and made the the way I am today, through countless experiments, and all the while Lucrecia pushed herself to the limit, as far as a scientist could go, overstepping the limits of what is ethical for humans, of what is deemed right and wrong, and she offered up the life of her unborn child to the name of science for the Jenova project. The child's father stole up his baby, and never once let Lucrecia see it, let alone change her mind about what she had decided for it's future. She named him, but other than that single motherly act, Lucrecia was all but kept as a prisoner in her lab, unable to watch her child grow. You see, Sephiroth, the man who fathered Lucrecia's child was a scientist by the name of Hojo."

Vincent opened his eyes, gazing deeply at the woman's serene face. "I once told you your son was dead, Lucrecia. Forgive me for lying, but I only wanted peace for you. I have brought him to see you; he's a changed man, reborn, little to nothing like he once was. I believe he's even found a little happiness."

Reality hit Sephiroth like a brick to the side of his head.

Lucrecia Crescent was his real mother.

Growing up, he had been fed lie upon lie, swallowing each and the next without much question or worry- so long as he could be stronger, he would take anything Hojo could throw at him. For the entirety of his lifespan, he had thought Jenova to have been voluntarily, not forcefully, involved with him; the voice of his real mother, not the bitch who gave birth to him and then abandoned him.

But this?

To hear that his mother had once been sane, and had been quite human after all, and not altogether a terrible human being, made the world around Sephiroth spin and tilt. He was the outcome of a twisted experiment and of unrequited love, not of test-tubes and manually structured DNA.

He fell to his knees before the grave of his mother, his real mother, and placed his hands against the crystal that kept him from truly touching her. A million different emotions swam though him, and his blood turned to ice in his veins; Sephiroth was unsure if he should smile out of happy realization that Jenova was merely a bad dream, a parasite, or damn the woman in front of him for making everything he had ever known terrible misery.

Balling his fits with frustration and confused rage, the general fell to his hands and knees and pounded the floor with his clenched hands. It was an act merely used to relieve the stress and tension his body was suddenly full of, and as he relentlessly pounded the stone floor, it began to crack from the merciless beating it was helpless to stop. Over and over Sephiroth's hand hit the rock until he had made a crater in the floor the side of his fist. His knuckles were bloodied and battered, and despite knowing he had broken more than a few bones Sephiroth felt little to no pain in his hand.

It was a long while before he had gathered enough courage to look up again, intently staring at the frozen beauty he knew to be the woman who gave him life. He moved his gaze from his mother to where he supposed Vincent would stand. The space, however, was empty.

Again, Sephiroth looked to the frozen body of his mother.

For the first time in his life, Sephiroth, the great general, the destroyer of the Wutain army, the warrior, the killer of countless, cried.


	38. Understanding

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Author's Notice: Slight Yuffie/Vincent pairing in this chapter, though only vocal.

Chapter 38: Understanding

Sephiroth felt the overwhelming urge to be free of the cave all but consume him. He rushed from the crystal-lined outlet, stumbling along the erratic path his panicking feet trudged across, through rock and sand alike. The world spun around him, and the ground rose to meet him when his feet weren't stable enough to carry his weight. He fumbled through the cave entrance on his hands and knees, blindly groping mossy stone and smooth crystal until the cold night air rushed up to meet him and the stars were visible above his head. Without thinking, Sephiroth stumbled into the lake. The water was freezing, much like the air, but the general hardly noticed. Foreign tears had burned hot trails down his cheeks, and had only left more sadness in their wake.

Waist deep in water, Sephiroth scooped up handfuls and splashed the droplets on his face. He rinsed away any traces of tears that might have been left behind, but still he did not feel satisfied. Holding his breath, as well as his nose, Sephiroth plunged into the lake. He emerged mere moments later, gasping for air. He began to shiver.

Cold was not something that bothered Sephiroth; the cold was not what made his body quake as terribly as it did. Overwhelming despair gripped the heart of the silver-haired swordsman, and made him tremble from the tip of his nose all the way down to his boots.

There was no telling how long he had trudged through the mountains, but by the time common sense bade him to return to the house, to side of the flower girl, it was well past dawn. Somehow, Sephiroth knew she would be waiting for him with nothing but questions in her voice and worry on her face. He, however, was too tired to care. His heart ached, and his body ached- there was little to be said.

"Where have you been?" Her voice was shrill, laced with fright and fret. Sephiroth stormed through the front door of the house promptly slamming it behind him. "Sephiroth- I've been worried sick and Vincent wouldn't tell me anything and-"

There was nothing that he could say that would appease himself- he wouldn't lie to her, and the truth was too hard to relive again until he had rested. Knowing he would feel terrible about it later, he strode past Aerith without so much as a glance and stormed up the stairs and down the hallway to his room.

"What, in Planet's name, did you do to him, Vincent Valentine!?" If Sephiroth were paying attention, he would have noticed Aerith's tone was quite easily the most terrifying it had ever been.

Ignoring the soon to be chaotic mess of yelling and excuses that would rumble from the floor below his feet, Sephiroth strode to his bed, stripped his frozen clothing off until he was left in only his undergarments, promptly huddled under the fluffy down comforter and proceeded to stuff his head under his pillow.

His body slowly eased into a slight relaxation, and soon the general found himself in a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was late into the night when he awoke with a sudden start. His heart racing, Sephiroth sat up and placed a hand to his chest as if he had been torn from sleep by some terrible nightmare. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, attempting to recall any dreams he might have had, but when his mind was drawing nothing but blanks, Sephiroth gently laid back upon the still-warm sheets.

What little light the crescent moon offered filtered in through the shades in front of the window. Sephiroth rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, wondering how long he had been asleep. Immediately, having been given the quiet of the night, his thoughts drifted toward what he had only recently learned.

In his heart, Sephiroth didn't blame Vincent. He knew that he very well could- if the damned gunman had simply communicated with the woman he cared for before things escalated, perhaps Sephiroth would have been his son and been raised in somewhat of a normal family.

The thought of being Vincent's son, however, was slightly awkward for Sephiroth to think of; the man looked not a day older than twenty-six, twenty-seven at the most, whereas Sephiroth knew Vincent couldn't be any younger than fifty. The only reason he could give a decent estimate on the gunman's age was because of his own- unsure of his own date of birth, and thusly unsure of his exact age, Sephiroth was able to guess himself to be easily in his late twenties to early thirties. The younger the better- he mused; the longer he had to live.

Thinking of having Vincent for a father, however, caused Sephiroth's thoughts to steer in the direction of his past and how he was raised. Cruel as it may have been, the general had to admit that had the past not happened as it had, he wouldn't have been given a chance at what he was aiming for- a better life. He easily understood that the life he had led before had been anything but a worthy lifestyle- yet, there had been no happiness within his world. Had he been born unto the world with caring parents, he would have taken happiness for granted.

Thinking such inevitably led him to the conclusion that had everything not been so terribly wrong in his previously life, Sephiroth would not find himself attempting to win the affections of the most pure and wondering being on the planet, damn it all.

It was all very confusing.

In fact, it was hunger-inducing, thinking so much. Throwing his bed covers aside, Sephiroth quietly set his feet to the floor, pulled on a pair of clean pants, and crept to the door.

Listening carefully for signs of life, Sephiroth pressed his ear against the wall. He could feel Aerith on the other side of the door, somewhere nearby, but oddly knew her to be asleep. The rest of the house lay silent, and so the general turned the knob and ventured into the hallway. Somehow, he was slightly disturbed to see Aerith in the hallway, sleeping against the wall. A heavy blanket surrounded her tiny frame, and a pillow kept her head from lying on the hardwood floor. Still, Sephiroth was not yet ready to communicate to the flower girl the amount of inner torment he was going trough. Truth be told, he wasn't accepting much of it himself- he was only beginning to understand what everything meant and how it tied together. He would tell her eventually.

Despite himself, Sephiroth knew where to find the kitchen. True, it had been many years since last he set foot inside the mansion, but little aside from interior decorating had changed- the floor plan was much the same as it had been, and he was easily able to navigate down a set of stairs and through several hallways, even in the dark.

The fridge was stockpiled with all sorts of goodies- slices of pie and fruit, uncooked meats, several kinds of cheese, a wrapped up baked potatoes someone seemed to be saving, a doughnut hidden behind a carton of eggs, juice from several things Sephiroth wasn't aware that could be turned into juice; it looked as though the younger girl, Yuffie, did most of the shopping. The things on the shelves seemed to be staples in the life of a young adult, or at least Sephiroth was able to assume based off of several containers full of left-over macaroni and cheese, as well as several half-eaten cans of ready-to-eat ravioli. Not wanting to take a chance with the cold pasta, Sephiroth settled for a few slices of cheese and a bowl of grapes that, by the looks of it, had already been half-eaten. It wasn't much, but he wasn't terribly hungry, either. All he needed was enough to sustain himself until dawn, where he was sure he would be notified of what he was allowed to eat (he wouldn't think of touching the ravioli- Ramah only knew how long it had been decorating the top-most shelf of the fridge).

Sephiroth could feel Vincent's presence before he stepped out of the shadowed doorway. Keeping his expression purposefully calm and collected, Sephiroth raised his eyebrow when he met the gaze of the dark man. What other secrets did Vincent have for him? – Perhaps he had a half-chocobo sibling locked away in the basement, or something just as silly. Sephiroth's rather strange attempt at inner-sarcasm, however, was cut short by the question Vincent accusingly shot in his direction.

"She speaks nothing but good of you, yet you ignore her for three days? She's so worried about you that she hardly moves from that damn spot outside of your door. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sephiroth's eyebrows quickly shot to the sky, and he held up his hands in defense while shaking his head.

Vincent's expression shifted from irritated to slightly puzzled. The gunman slowly put a few things together in his head and came to a conclusion. "You really were sleeping, weren't you?"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and nodded. Of course he had been sleeping –though three days was a long while to be out. He would never ignore Aerith; there was much he was willing to do for her, in fact, but there was no need to tell the gunman such.

Sighing, Vincent broke eye contact with Sephiroth. "I haven't told Aerith what went on the night I took you to the cave. I knew it wasn't my place, and I wasn't sure if you even wished her to know. But you must tell her something and lay her worries to rest before she actually becomes ill over all of this. She keeps telling Yuffie that she thinks you're mad at her for some reason, and it's damn near driving her mad."

Running a hand though his hair, Sephiroth exhaled harshly through his nose while he attempted to think of what he might tell the flower girl.

Vincent continued as if Sephiroth hadn't shown any frustration over the situation. "There is little Yuffie and I can do to comfort her. She's still pleased with our company, but doesn't often venture far from your door. What, exactly, are each of you to the other?"

Sephiroth popped another grape into his mouth, wishing desperately for their conversation to be over. He owed the gunman no explanation, especially when Aerith herself knew not the nature of his true feelings.

It was quite irritating, however, when Vincent was able to make an educated guess. "You have feelings for her, don't you, Sephiroth?"

Again, Sephiroth ran a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. He hadn't planned on outright telling the man his feelings for the flower girl, but he wouldn't lie, either.

He watched as a small smile befell the gunman's lips. "I'm not one to judge, Sephiroth." The gunman's gaze fell to the floor.

Sephiroth's eyes widened. What was he trying to tell him?

Bemused, and most likely slightly embarrassed, Vincent looked around the kitchen, his gaze curiously avoiding that of the swordsman. "Try not to think too harshly of me, for liking the little Wutain girl. It's true, my heart sides with Yuffie, but there is more than simple infatuation behind my feelings. After what happened in the crater, I felt as though I could finally rest. I didn't speak much with everyone else after that, and left our ship in the middle of the night. I came back here, thinking I would finally be granted eternal sleep."

Vincent, again, smiled.

"She stormed down the stairs, soaked through to the bone because of the rain, crying. She demanded to know why I left without telling anyone, and I offered up no excuses. I told her I had come home to die."

Biting his lip, Vincent rolled his eyes. "She hit me for that. Hard. Tiny little fists like iron, she has. Neither of us arranged it- she just moved in after that. She used her Gil to redecorated, never asking me how I felt."

"To say the least, I don't mind her company. At first, it was aggravating; Human interaction was something that I had done without for many years. Joining Cloud's campaign was my first step outside of this house in years, decades."

Sephiroth popped another grape into his mouth, somehow bemused the way the conversation had switched viewpoints. He raised an eyebrow at the gunman, keeping his expression inquisitive, yet cooled.

"No," Vincent continued, reading the general's facial expressions. "I haven't told her the way I feel yet."

Clearing his throat, Vincent scratched the back of his head. "Well, look at the situation- Yuffie is so young in comparison; she'll be twenty this November, where as I-" there was a long pause. "I'm a little older, hence why I am apprehensive about my feelings toward her. True, my appearance is young, but my heart and mind are older than I would like to admit. I want to make sure that it is I who she wants, who she loves. She shows her affection toward me in childish ways, and so knowing how to react is something I am still struggling with; I am not sure how she truly feels. I don't want to hurt her, like I hurt Lucrecia. It hasn't been long enough for me to be sure; it's been a long time since I've been in love, Sephiroth, and I won't make the same mistakes I once did. Remember that. Don't let Aerith be to you what Lucrecia was to me; a distant dream, a broken heart."

Nodding absentmindedly, Sephiroth refused to meet Vincent's gaze. It was obvious to the swordsman that the secrets he had been told were things that Vincent had shared with no other, but had been bothering him for some time. One thing was for sure, however; Sephiroth would not allow Aerith to slip through his grasp. He wouldn't press his feelings- forcing her to decide was something he would never do. But Shiva be damned if, by the time he told her how he felt, she wouldn't already have guessed.

"There are many paths to a woman's heart, Sephiroth," Vincent mused. "Each one is just as foreign as the next. As long as you keep your eyes on the prize, I have a feeling you'll do just fine. While I don't know what, exactly, Aerith may feel for you, I at least know you have a better chance than anyone else." Without so much as another word, Vincent walked quietly from the kitchen and melted into the dark hallway.

Sephiroth put the remaining grapes back into the fridge and swallowed down the last few bites of cheese. His feet easily managed to navigate through the dark hallways of the house and eventually brought him to the door of his bedroom. The general looked upon the body of his resting flower maiden and, without much thought, gently scooped her up into his arms and swept her on the bed. He carefully made sure not to wake her, and was pleased when she didn't stir in the slightest.

He shut the door to the bedroom, quietly, and crept across the room to the other side of the bed. Sitting down, Sephiroth made certain not to disturb Aerith's slumber. He sat like that, with his back against the headboard, Aerith asleep at his side, gazing out of the window for many hours. Pleased with merely being near her, he felt content for a long while. Her steady inhale and exhale of breath was smooth and calming, and Sephiroth tried to think how he would managed to get along without it were she ever to leave. He couldn't think of a way.

It came as no surprise, then, when Sephiroth felt the exact moment Aerith awoke. It took her several moments to distinguish why, exactly, she was on a warm, fluffy bed, contrary to the cold, hardwood flooring she had fallen asleep on. Sephiroth felt her sit up and stare about the room in awe. Slowly, he turned away from the sunrise and looked at her.

He had purposefully let his guard down, just for her: his face held no carefully calculated mask, his eyes no ice. He would allow her to see him as no one ever had- vulnerable.

It was obvious that she didn't know how to react. At first, her facial expression was angry- she didn't need to voice her questions for Sephiroth to be able to read them from her eyes- they were all there. Then, when she made eye-contact with him, her anger subsided and a look of flustered curiosity crept in.

"Why did you ignore me?"

Sephiroth shook his head, closing his eyes while he did so.

"Were you really sleeping, then?"

This time, he nodded.

"Well, what the hell were you so pissed off about the other night?"

Sephiroth let a smile escape. Aerith's attempt at being irate was rather cute. There had been very few other accounts he could recall whereupon she cursed. He opened his eyes and pointed toward his bedside table, where his notebook and pen neatly laid. Aerith leaned over and retrieved them without hesitation, handing them to Sephiroth without meeting his gaze.

He handed her his notebook when he had finished. 'Don't think that I would ever purposefully ignore you. The other night, Vincent had taken me to see the grave of my mother- my real mother. I discovered things about myself, about my past and where I came from, and was merely upset at the overwhelming onslaught of information that wasn't, at first, welcome. I must have slept so long because of the emotional breakdown I went through that night.'

Aerith shook her head and looked up at the general; he could read the hurt in her eyes. "Breakdown? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me help you?"

It was rather difficult for Sephiroth to write his next message. 'Because, at the time, I didn't think I needed anyone. I've never been through anything like that before. My head was such a mess; I simply wanted to sleep until my heart stopped aching.'

Sephiroth attempted, as best he could, to tell Aerith all that happened and all that he learned.

'My mother was human- quite beautiful, too. Vincent knew her, surprisingly, from before I was born. I found out the nature of my mother, how she was a scientist, how she sought comfort in the arms of a man who turned out to be a terrible human being- his name was Hojo. Hojo did terrible things to my mother while I was still in her womb, and never allowed her to see me after I was born- not once. I grew up thinking I was created in a test tube, that my mother was some crazy viral infection that spoke to me. Everything in my life was a lie. I'm not stupid- I've known that I'm human for a long time. But to hear everything that I've suspected that it's the truth? My heart aches so terribly Aerith.'

Again, Aerith shook her head. This time, however, it was obviously from guilt. 'Why didn't you come to me?"

'I didn't know it was you who I needed.'

Her great, shining emerald eyes shot up to meet the gaze of the general. "I'm so sorry, Sephiroth. I wish I could help you- you've been through so much."

Sephiroth sighed. Here she was, pitying him. He had stolen her life, her future, and her friends from her, and yet she sat in front of him, eyes sparking with sincerity, full of pity and the want to help him somehow. It was mind boggling; why didn't she blame him for everything? Aerith shouldn't be showing him pity: she should, like so many others, smirk and remind him of all the terrible things he had done to other people.

Another message, this one solemn, was handed to her. 'I finally got what I deserve, I suppose.'

Sephiroth was not sure what kind of a reaction he should have been looking for in Aerith after such a downtrodden thing to say. Though it was depressive, Sephiroth wasn't about to lie to Aerith- it was, truly, the way he felt. He had stolen so much from others, and his bad karma finally caught up with him.

Aerith's eyes were on fire. "Don't ever say something like that again!"

Sephiroth jumped, not expecting Aerith to raise her voice so early in the morning. Placing a finger to his lips, Sephiroth sat up and leaned forwarding, trying to get Aerith to calm down. He didn't want Yuffie or Vincent to wake up and barge in, uninvited.

Aerith gripped Sephiroth's wrist and pulled his hand away from his mouth. Sitting up on her knees, she leaned over the shocked general and pointed a finger directly into his chest. "I don't care what happened, I don't care what people say or think: you're a good person, and I can attest to it. Do you think I would trust you if you weren't? Do you think I would blindly travel around the world with you if it wasn't true? The things that you've done, the sins that you have committed, are in the past. You're not the same man you once were. Do you understand me?"

It took several moments for Sephiroth to gather his composure after Aerith had finished speaking. He was certain that, when he saw them, the tears freely falling from her emerald eyes were out of frustration.

Without thinking, he reached up and placed a hand to her face, wiping away the salty trails the tears left with this thumb. There wasn't a single coherent thought running through his head as he reached out with his other hand, pulled her close, and cradled her against his chest. He wasn't sure how he had done it, but he had somehow managed to turn her against him, so that that she was sitting somewhat sideways in his lap, her legs hanging off the side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and placed a free hand on the side of her face, gently pressing her against his neck.

It was amazing how easily she moved with him. Sephiroth was somewhat shocked when he noticed that she hadn't protested at all and had, rather, moved the way he had directed her.

Whether it was merely from shock, it took Aerith several minutes to speak again. "Do you understand me?" Her voice, no longer flushed with frustration, was gentle and whispered, almost as if she was comforted by the closeness.

Mutely nodding, Sephiroth pressed his face against the top of her head. He let out a sigh; he doubted there had ever been an instance in his life he had felt more comforted.

Someone believed he was a good person. That someone was the person he had wronged the most, and yet she believed him to be a good person; it was as if the world had crumbled beneath him, and Aerith was the only thing keeping him tied to it.

It was in that moment that Sephiroth decided to try his best to be the person Aerith believed him to be. He wouldn't allow Aerith to be to him as his mother was to the man who truly loved her; a distant dream. He would be damned before he allowed her heart to break.

Vaguely, he could feel her lips against his chest mouth the words 'I forgive you.' He wanted so terribly to hold her, to kiss her, to make her smile until the world stopped moving, and to tell her so, but it was the footsteps he heard rapidly approaching his bedroom door that made him snap back to reality and out of his happy daydream.

A knock sounded at the door, making Aerith jump in his arms. "Everything okay in there, Aerith? I thought I heard yelling." It was the voice of Yuffie, the little ninja girl Vincent had found himself so infatuated with.

Aerith turned in his arms, facing the door but not leaving Sephiroth's grasp. "Everything is okay, Yuffie. We were just talking, and I got a little upset."

"Oh." A long, drawn-out pause. "I'm hungry- you wanna help me cook something for breakfast?"

She smiled. Oh, Planet how Sephiroth loved it when she smiled. "I'll be right out, Yuffie. I'll meet you in the kitchen in just a minute."

Muffled footsteps faded down the hallway.

Aerith turned to face Sephiroth. Though he looked up to meet her gaze, he was rather surprised to see that her face was a pale shade of pink and her eyes were looking anywhere but his. "Remember what I told you," she chided him. "You're a good person."

Sephiroth reached out for his notebook, but Aerith pushed his hands away, apparently having read his expression out of the corner of her eyes. She, somewhat tentatively, placed a hand on his cheek and smiled shyly. "Yes, Sephiroth- I really do think you're a good person. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't care so much for you."

Blinking several times, hoping desperately that what he just heard had been correct, Sephiroth allowed Aerith to see a small, bemused smile befall his lips. Her hand still on his cheek, she looked at him and tilted her head. Her smile grew.

Even if she hadn't admitted much, whether she meant that she cared for him as a friend or possibly something more, Sephiroth was rather happy. It was a step forward in his favor. He would get her to care for him just as deeply as he cared for her, or he would die trying. He would be the man she wanted, the man she needed, else he would do everything in his power to make sure she was happy.

"I'm hungry- let's go eat." She was awkward to stumble off his lap, away from his warmth, but Sephiroth knew that if they didn't venture to the kitchen soon, Yuffie would come looking for them.

The smile on his face remained, even after he donned a shirt and followed Aerith down the stairs and into the kitchen.


	39. Happiness

My apologies for taking so long to update; my life hit a few speed bumps, though I am now on the better side of them. This chapter is for you, Rama. Keep your chin up, and your spirits high. You still, after all, owe me that drink!

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 39: Happiness

No matter how odd they might have looked, the four of them sitting around a giant oak table eating sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit, Sephiroth had to admit they got along just fine. Never before having been around a social situation like the one he sat in the middle of, he was actually happy to nod in agreement, or shake his head in disapproval when it was called for, while Aerith, Yuffie, and Vincent made quite the chatter over their food. Several stories were relayed via Yuffie, telling about her clumsiness- just the previous week, she had fallen down the last two stairs on the staircase nearest the door and had landed in a most unceremonious position (in which she demonstrated on the dining room floor, causing Sephiroth to nearly spit out his juice from laughter).

"And last week," Yuffie continued, through a bite of toast, "while Vincent was helping me in the back garden, some kids were playing baseball in the town square. There was this big cracking noise, and Vincent looks up at me and asks, 'What was that?' I swear to Leviathan, Aerith, not a second later a baseball fell and hit him right on the head. You should have seen the look on his face- it was hilarious!"

Vincent cleared his throat. "Surely it wasn't that funny, Yuffie."

The conversation paused for a moment, whereupon both Aerith and Yuffie began to giggle.

Shaking his head, Vincent teased Aerith. "Come on, it couldn't have been that funny."

Aerith held up her hands in defense. "Vincent- just imagining the look on your face after something like that is hilarious."

Sephiroth hid his enormous smirk behind a piece of toast.

Vincent, all in good humor, put his hands up in defense. He, however, was smiling. "Alright, so it was a little funny. You can't blame me for being surprised, though."

Yuffie let out a high-pitched squeal of laughter. "Vinnie, you looked like someone had popped your balloon and slapped the ice-cream cone right out of you hand. It was precious- precious, I am telling you!"

Aerith snorted and squeezed her eyes shut.

"And what about last week, young lady?" Vincent pointed an accusing finger at Yuffie.

She smirked in retaliation. "What about it?"

Rolling his eyes, Vincent nudged Sephiroth in the arm with his elbow. "You should have seen it! There she was, out in the middle of the night, on the back wall. She was standing on it- that big stone one, that's about five feet off the ground and about a foot wide. Well, Yuffie was standing on it and singing to herse-"

"I wasn't singing, Vincent, I was humming. Get your story straight."

Vincent laughed. "Alright, alright- so she was humming to herself. I walked out of the back door, having noticed her out of the kitchen window and I just say 'hi'. That was it, just 'hi', I swear."

There was a paused added for drama.

"And she screams like a kid – that high-pitched, something is hiding in my closet and just moved kind of scream- and falls ass over elbow off the back wall. I didn't think I could laugh that hard."

Yuffie scoffed, despite her smile. "You big liar- you only started to laugh after you were done freaking out about whether or not I had broken something on my way down."

Vincent threw his head back and laughed harder. "I'm not heartless. Worried about you or not, I still had a good laugh that night. I swear- I didn't know a person could tumble like that. And don't even get me started on how many times I've saved her from falling over the darn stair railing! The girl has two left feet!"

Sephiroth smiled, laughing with everyone. He wondered if this was what a family felt like. It seemed nice t have friends.

A light change of subject, care of Yuffie, tore Sephiroth's attention from his second helping of scrambled eggs. "Aerith, is that a new hair ribbon? I thought yours was pink."

Aerith smiled, somewhat shyly. "It was. This was a birthday present."

Vincent tilted his head, obviously having not caught on. "Birthday? Wasn't your birthday back in February?"

Nodding, Aerith swallowed a bite of bacon. "Yeah, but remember? Sephiroth and I didn't actually leave Mideel until March- we lived in that cabin for a good three months before we left. We really didn't do anything for my birthday, anyway. The only reason he knew it was my birthday was because I had made a mark on the calendar."

Vincent smiled, something sly lying beneath his lips. "So, Sephiroth bought that for you? How thoughtful."

Sephiroth upended his glass of orange juice while he attempted to avoid Vincent's eyes. Even Yuffie seemed slightly surprised. It was no wonder, though- the last time the two had seen him had been in the crater, with him in the middle of a mass of energy, attempting to take over the world and not giving a damn about what, or who, got in his way. The silence was highly uncomfortable. They all had been sitting at the dining room table, taking as old friends would, despite only having been together for less than a week (most of which Sephiroth had been asleep for, anyway). It was not all that strange to him to think they still thought him callous, regardless of what Aerith might have told them.

That was another life, however, and Sephiroth wouldn't let Vincent's curious gaze or Yuffie's speculating facial expressions bother him.

Aerith shrugged. "Yes, he bought it for me. I was a little surprised- I didn't know he had read what I'd written on the calendar."

"You didn't throw a party?" Yuffie stole the last piece of toast from the plate set in the middle of the table.

Shaking her head, Aerith smiled. "Not really. I was never that big on birthdays when I was little, either. It's just like any other day, only with a little more cake and the occasional present when my mom could afford it. Growing up in the slums kind of sucked."

"Man, that's crazy. In Wutai, birthdays are huge! I remember every single birthday of mine-"

"That's because you're father is Lord Godo, and he spoiled you rotten, little princess," Vincent interjected.

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Doesn't matter- they were still super fun, even when I was little."

There was a distressing paused in the room, and Sephiroth got the vague feeling that Yuffie was planning something that wouldn't end well in anyone's favor. His stomach churned slightly and he was unsure if it was because of the orange juice he had guzzled so quickly, or the look on the young girl's face.

"Hey, Vinnie- let's throw Aerith a belated birthday party!"

Great Shiva, Sephiroth hated when his gut was right.

The gunman's reply was instant. "No."

Yuffie whined. "Why the hell not, Valentine? It would be so much fun- we could get balloons and streamers, and everyone could get her a present, and we could bake her a cake, and we could get some booze and-"

"The last thing you need, young lady, is to get any more alcohol in your system. All that you're looking for is an excuse to drink. You remember what happened last time?"

Yuffie's smile was impish, and Sephiroth thought that, had he looked closer, he would have seen small devil horns pop out of her head in a cartoonish manner. "I held my liquor better than you!"

Aerith coughed and hid her smile behind the back of her hand.

"Yuffie, I-" Vincent was cut off before he could lodge another protest.

"When is the next time we're going to be able to do something like this together, Vincent? We can't hide them from Cloud forever, and they're going to have to leave soon, right? Why can't we have a little fun?"

There were several moments of silence before Sephiroth heard the gunman crack. "Alright- but go easy on the alcohol, princess."

Jumping out of her chair, Yuffie grabbed Aerith's hand and pulled the flower girl from the remains of her breakfast. "Come on; let's go into town and shop!"

When the girls had left the room, Sephiroth watched as Vincent shook his head, defeated and looking slightly deflated. "Goodness, what have I done?"

Had Sephiroth the vocal abilities, he would have laughed good and hard. It was a party- a birthday party of all things. There was little chance that something terrifically wrong would occur. Things might go bad, the the chances of Yuffie actually blowing up the house were slim. He wanted to tell the gunman to relax- instead, he smiled, shrugged, and took the empty plates to the kitchen where he loaded them into the sink.

Thundering footsteps alerted him that Yuffie had arrived in the kitchen. He turned around to face her, curious.

She was slightly out of breath when she spoke. "Are you two coming, or what? Let's get a move on, boys!"

In less than fifteen minutes, the four of them had assembled in the main hall of the mansion, Yuffie and Aerith bouncing around in excitement, Vincent and Sephiroth shifting slightly, unsure of what to expect of the women. Before they headed for the door, however, Vincent took a good, long look at Sephiroth.

"I don't know if you should go into town, actually."

The tension in the room raised fifty-fold, and Sephiroth gazed down at the floor, a look of shame crossing his features for a split second before his face relaxed into a cooled, collected expression. Would the people of Nibelheim remember him?

"We could always dress him in up in a disguise," Yuffie suggested.

Sephiroth frowned and thought immediately of his cross-dressing escapade in Wutai. He would need a disguise just as good to fool the people of the town, but it would be a cold day in hell before he placed fruit in his shirt to act as- well, anyway it was looked at, cross-dressing again was out of the question.

"I have an idea." Aerith smiled up at him, kindly. She reached out for his hand and laced his fingers into hers, leading him up the staircase and into his room. "Give us just a minute," she called over her shoulder.

Without asking permission, Aerith opened the door to his room and made a beeline straight for his back pack. She began to dig through his bag without hesitation, pulling clothing and potions out left and right, in search of something. She stilled when she pulled a strange-looking book from his bag. "What's this?" Her voice was innocent.

Sephiroth could feel heat beginning to radiate off of his face. He took the book out of Aerith's grasp, gently, and pulled the notebook out of his pocket. He handed her his scribbled message, tucking the book under his arm and avoiding eye-contact with her.

"A journal? You mean, like, a diary?" Her tone was light and curious, without judgment. It seemed to the general that she was truly interested.

Sephiroth shrugged and nodded at the same time, keeping the book pressed between his upper arm and his chest. He remembered having taken the book off the shelf of the house in Mideel; how he had been so eager to open it, and then had been disappointed when the old leather book held nothing but blank pages. He had, in secret, been writing in the journal every so often since the night he had found it. Merely having forgotten it as of late, Sephiroth hadn't realized that he had left it in his backpack. During the day, he pushed the thoughts of the book out of his mind and concentrated on what needed to be done- the book was more of a hobby, really, and even had little sketches doodled in the margins. The book was merely a way for him to get things off of his mind; there were some things he didn't want to talk to Aerith directly about. Heaven knew he never wanted her to know about the journal.

Still, she smiled up at him. "I think it's neat that you have a journal. It's a good place to keep your thoughts when you can't keep them all in your head." Aerith went back to pilfering through his clothing.

Relief flooded through Sephiroth's veins, and he let go of the breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding. He found himself being very grateful that Aerith was kind enough to know when he wasn't comfortable and to drop the subject; he didn't know what he would do with himself if she ever were to read what he had written on the pages within the book.

Pushing the thought from his mind, Sephiroth forced the book beneath his pillow and helped Aerith sort through his clothing. Lying out a new outfit for him to wear, she left the room and let him change in peace. When he opened the door and let her back in, having donned the pair of plain, dark-blue jeans and black turtleneck sweater, Sephiroth was shocked to see that he had fetched her hairbrush from her room.

Then, he was filled with a slight sense of dread. She reached up and made a grab for his hair, but he twisted out of her grasp and held her wrists tight in his hands.

"We can't take you into town looking like, well- you. I just want to fix your hair a little."

Sephiroth shook his head, unsure of why his chest constricted so tightly. Never before has someone touched his hair, and the general wasn't sure if he was ready to take such an awkward step forward, even with the flower girl.

He had always prided himself on his wild mane of hair- it never seemed to tangle, always stayed right where it was meant to, and it never dulled. Taking care of his shock of silver hair had been the one thing that brought him a small shred of joy in his previous life. It was his, and his alone. No one else was to touch it.

Aerith shifted her stance from one foot to another, obviously unsure of what to do. "Please, Seph? I'm just going to brush it a little. I promise to be nice."

Sephiroth swallowed hard, letting Aerith's hands free. How could he deny those beautiful, glowing emerald eyes of hers? She directed him toward the ground, and so he sat on the floor and waited for the inevitable.

Having Aerith brush his hair wasn't, much to his own reassurance, as terrible of a thing as he thought it might be. She was gentle, just as promised, and it was oddly soothing to have her fingers weave in and out of his long hair. When she had finished, he made to get up, but she placed a tiny palm on his shoulder to hold him down. He heard scuffling, and then something fuzzy was forced over the top of his head.

She had put a hat on him and, without regret, braided his hair. When he turned and gazed at himself in the mirror, he was struck between the urge to rip the braid out, or to touch the glass to make sure it was his actual reflection. The beanie and the braid had worked wonders. Someone glancing at him would merely see him as a large man with long white hair, braided low and loose along his neck. It wasn't much of a disguise, but it worked well enough- that much was for certain.

Aerith smiled and looked up at him. "Sorry; that's really the only hair-style I know how to do well. I didn't think a ponytail would work, so I did all I could."

He glanced up at her from his position seated upon the floor and let a smile befall his lips. Nodding once, he held his head low for her in gratitude. Not expecting her to throw her arms around his shoulders, Sephiroth was rather taken aback at Aerith's sudden closeness when she suddenly hugged him. A few hours ago, in the same room as they occupied, he had held her close to ease his heart, to erase his pain. Now, she was the one who latched onto him, though Sephiroth was unable to fathom a reason as to why. His eyes swiftly met the image in the mirror and the general was even more surprised to see Aerith had partially buried her face into his neck, her front pressed tightly against his back. Though it was only her nose and eyes that peeked up over his large shoulder blade, he could tell she wore a smile about her lips. She was calm, and seemed almost happy.

Sephiroth mentally berated himself, trying to gather enough courage to just tell her what his heart felt. It was simple fear that clouded his sense, however. It seemed the mountain was afraid of the mouse. What would happen if she rejected him? Sephiroth could feel not only his heart but his entire body ache as he thought of the outcome were he to admit his feelings for her and have her reject him. It would be emotionally and physically devastating. Yes, he wanted her to be happy, but he also understood that he might not be the one destined to make her so. That didn't mean, however, that he was going to be pleased with it at first, were she to reject him. Heartache hurt, of that he was sure, but Sephiroth knew that once he saw Aerith happy, even if it were in the arms of another, then he, too, would be happy. It would merely take time.

Despite the way she held on to him, her eyes closed, her face partially buried against his skin, calm and peaceful, Sephiroth was scared senseless over what everything could lead to. What, then, would happen if she were to return his feelings? How would he respond? What would there be left for them? They had no home to return to, and few knew of their return- they had no family or friends to turn to, save Yuffie and Vincent, and being a guest in a house he only had terrible memories of for the rest of their lives was simply not an option. Cloud was bound to come after them, and soon. Would they be on the run for the rest of their days?

Something dawned on him, then, as he slowly reached up to place his hand against Aerith's forearm. Sephiroth wasn't afraid of her rejection; he was terrified of not being able to make her happy, to give her the life she deserved, the life she wanted. A flower garden, a beautiful house, having nothing to worry about, complete happiness- these were things Sephiroth was unsure if he would provide.

Suddenly, Aerith opened her eyes. Her face filled with concern, as if she had heard his thoughts, she tilted her head against his skin.

He smiled up at her, trying to mask the pain in his heart. When she returned the smile it was hesitant, and Sephiroth knew that she had seen the pain so heavily set across his face. He hadn't meant for her to see it, but she had. His heart jumped when she spoke.

"Are you ready to go, then?"

Thank the Lifestream the woman didn't press into his comfort bubble. He nodded and, as soon as she had unlatched her arms from around his neck, stood. Holding the door open for her, they headed down the hall and into the foyer where Vincent and Yuffie were patiently waiting for them.

Yuffie smiled at Aerith and Sephiroth as they walked down the staircase and neared the front door. "It isn't much of a disguise, but I'll be damned if someone recognizes you, that's for sure."

Sephiroth knew that was as much of a compliment as he was going to get from the young ninja, and he took it with a grain of salt and nodded once in gratitude and approval.

The sun was, much to Sephiroth's surprise, beating down upon the earth with a newfound strength. The light that fell to the ground was warm and Sephiroth found himself almost regretting having worn a sweater. The walk to town wasn't much of a walk as more of a trudge down the gravel path that connected the town to the mansion, and then to the mountains. Several children were playing in the town square, pretending to hit one another with wooden swords. Their high-pitched laughter and squeals of delight told Sephiroth that life, for the moment, was good. He smiled slightly as he and his comrades passed them on their way to the general store.

Nibelheim had grown in size considerably since last he had traversed through the town, and apparently the population had as well. Despite the still early hours of the morning, the marketplace was hustling and bustling with shoppers of all ages. Fruit stands and vegetable carts littered the area, as well as wagons full of trinkets that sparked in the mid-morning sun. Though Sephiroth would have enjoyed stopping and looking over what the merchants were peddling, Yuffie navigated their rag-tag group through the small crowd and toward the larger building set nearest the town's entrance.

The store was brand new- Sephiroth could still smell the paint from the walls- but, despite this, the place still carried a homey, lived-in atmosphere about it. A tall young man poked his head around the corner of an aisle, apparently placing new stock on the shelving he was partially hidden behind. His expression immediately perked when he saw Yuffie and Vincent. "Hey, Yuffie- we just got some new chocolate stocked in the back. It's some of that new foreign stuff, the kind you liked last time, shipped here from Costal del Sol; the new brand is supposed to have citrus in it. Vincent- the new coffee and tea shipment won't be in until next week." The young man's eyes looked to Aerith, then to Sephiroth, curiously. "New friends of yours?"

Yuffie tilted her head and smiled. "I guess you could say that. We aren't here to hit the usual stuff, through."

The young man smiled, his white teeth a slight contrast to his tanned skin and dark hair. "Yuffie, is there a day of the week that you don't crave chocolate?"

Sephiroth watched Yuffie huff indignantly and place her hands on her hips. "I didn't say that I wasn't going to pick some up; I just said that we aren't here to scout out the new shipment. We have more important things to worry about."

The smile on the young man's face only grew. "What is more important to you than chocolate? And don't even say materia, because that doesn't count."

Vincent took the initiative to respond to the question. "We are actually throwing our friend here a little birthday party, and we needed some things to accommodate the celebration." Vincent then shrugged toward where Sephiroth and Aerith stood. "Rama, I'd like you to meet Aeri and Seph. Aeri, Seph- this is Rama. His family owns and operates the shop here."

Rama nodded toward the both of them, still wearing a smile. "Where are you two from?"

"Kalm." Aerith's response was a little too fast, but the young man didn't seem to notice.

"Used to have family up there- nice place. Well, if anyone needs help, just holler for me. I'm stuck doing stock since my sister is sick." Rama disappeared behind the shelf he first peeped out from.

Sephiroth silently thanked the planet that Yuffie was occupying Aerith's attentions for the moment. Glancing over his shoulder, he indicated to Vincent that he was going to do his own disappearing act.

What would Aerith like for a present? Sephiroth's mind began to struggle with the question. He had already spent much his brain power trying to think of what to get her for her actual birthday- now he had to get her something again, and it wasn't even a full year later? He was in a rut.

Browsing section after section after section, Sephiroth eventually meandered into the one part of the store he had hoped desperately not to venture into; the jewelry and trinket department. The younger gentleman whom he had acquainted near the entrance of the store, Rama, stood behind the jewelry counter, dutifully polishing one of the glass cases.

He smiled up at the general when he approached. "Looking for something for your girl?" Rama placed the rag and cleaner behind the counter.

Sephiroth tried to ignore the statement about Aerith being his girl, and instead focused his attention to the jewelry in the cases that splayed out before him. The silver sparkled, the gold glistened, the gems glittered, and all the while Sephiroth's head began to spin. He had always felt jewelry to be a personal gift, something someone gave a lover or a family member for an extremely special occasion. True, Sephiroth felt that the feelings he harbored toward the flower girl were, indeed, that of love, but to take such a huge step like buying her jewelry before he had even confessed his heart was something he thought might not be the best of ideas.

Great Ifrit below, what if she didn't approve it?

Sephiroth's inner anguish, much to his own discomfort, must have been displayed across his face very obviously, for the general was slightly taken aback when Rama made a rather obvious statement. "Your girl is always the hardest person to shop for."

Swallowing uncomfortably, Sephiroth shrugged, trying to avoid eye contact with the clerk. He looked upon the cases of rings and necklaces, and with each he attempted to picture the flower girl wearing something so frivolous upon her delicate neck or her thin fingers. He couldn't, and he wasn't without reason; aside from the ribbon Aerith wore in her hair, there was little she carried on or about her person to indicate what sort of tastes she might have. Jewelry was something Sephiroth was inexperienced at buying. He was just as inexperienced in reading the flower girl's deeper side. Sure, he could read emotions off of her face every now and again, and easily understand the tone beneath her voice when she spoke, but it was there, in the jewelry department of a general store in which Sephiroth realized that he knew little, in actuality, about Aerith.

The things he actually knew about her could be counted on one hand; she was Cetra; she had grown up in the slums; she had dated Zax; she had traveled most of the world with Cloud; she liked flowers.

What kind of music did she enjoy? Why did she wear that silly pink dress more often than her other, more practical clothing? What was her favorite food? Her favorite color? Her favorite season? Book? Animal?

None of these questions Sephiroth had an answer for.

Glancing up at Rama, who held a look upon his face that indicated he was rather concerned over Sephiroth's strange lapse into severe thought, the general decided he was going to do something daring for a change.

Aerith seemed like the type of person who enjoyed surprises. Sephiroth would, then, surprise her with something that no one would ever assume he would purchase; a ring.

It wasn't a forever type of thing; it wasn't as if he was purposing. A ring, however, signified a never-ending circle of life, and Sephiroth felt it only befitting considering that, after all, she was the reason he was breathing. Their lives were connected in a constant flow of give and take, and a ring was the only symbol Sephiroth could think of that would signify everything he felt for her, not merely love. She was courageous and strong willed, brave and determined, and Sephiroth himself knew that she made one hell of a cake.

He took another long look at the jewelry case and decided to seek Rama's help. Sephiroth pointed to a ring in the case, and glanced up at the clerk. Rama opened the case and took out a small stand with six rings creating a circle around a seventh; Sephiroth carefully plucked the one in the center of the circle and gazed at it. Then, he once again looked up at Rama.

Scratching the back of his head, Rama smiled sheepishly. "I like that one, I guess. I've always felt gold to be a little tacky, and the silver actually looks nicer with the diamond."

Sephiroth swallowed, hard. He liked the ring- it was the reason he had picked it up. Out of the entire case, it was the only ring he could ever see fitting upon Aerith's hand. The band was small and silver, and in the center of it, slightly raised, was an embedded diamond that gave off a luminous, faintly pink glow.

The only problem was that the ring seemed to be too large. If he were so inclined to wear such a thing, Sephiroth would have been able to fit the ring securely onto his own pinkie-finger. It was small to him, but he knew immediately that it was too large for Aerith's dainty fingers.

Apparently, Rama was thinking the same thing. "We could have it sent into to be resized, if you're going to be in town for a few days."

Sephiroth shook his head, instead pointing to another case full of chains. Rama smiled slightly and, without protest, retrieved from the case the stand full of fragile silver necklaces.

Picking out the chain to dangle the ring from seemed to, Sephiroth thought bitterly to himself, be just as difficult as picking out the ring itself; some chains twisted, while others were woven; the clasping on each one was different, as was the size of it. It was a never ending disaster and Sephiroth had, unwittingly, decided that sitting in the middle of it was a grand idea.

Finally forcing himself to decide on something, Sephiroth plucked a sturdy silver chain from the array spread out before him. It was a pretty weave, but practical; thin, but durable, just as the thing needed to be for no one knew what other kinds of surprises were in store for the two traveling companions on the road ahead. They were, after all, still fleeing from Cloud. The chain needed to be able to withstand wear and weather alike.

It was a good thing that every now and then Sephiroth had taken to pocketing the Gil earned from slaying the monsters upon their journey through the Nibelheim mountains, for he had left nearly all of his previous fortune back in Wutai in the hands of Zahi and his sister. Sephiroth, while he paid Rama for the jewelry and his services, pondered briefly what the energetic youngster and his kin might be up to considering they were once again reunited. It was an odd sensation, missing someone he had only been with for a few days, but Sephiroth couldn't necessarily pin the feeling as a bad one. He knew, from first hand experience, that Zahi was resourceful, and didn't doubt for a moment that the two had made it to safety. When he had been in Soldier, there were men he had known for several months, though few he had come in contact with after their initial training, yet he felt no sadness in knowing he hadn't the slightest idea where they were or what they were doing with their lives. It was odd, then, for him to think of Zahi and to wish he knew what the boy was up to.

Sephiroth forced himself back to reality and paid Rama for the goods and services he had provided, and bowed his head in thanks to the boy.

Rama scrunched his face up a bit. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Blinking rapidly, Sephiroth suddenly realized that upon being introduced to Rama, Vincent hadn't informed the young man that the general was mute. Taking it upon himself to convey his muteness to the boy without the use of his notebook, Sephiroth merely pointed to his neck and shook his head.

It seemed that Rama understood well enough because he offered up an apologetic look and a kind smile. "See you around, then."

Trudging away from the jewelry counter, wallet considerably lighter, Sephiroth allowed his mind to wander off again.

Perhaps, Sephiroth thought to himself, that Zahi might be happy that Sephiroth was finally loosening up. The poor boy had acted so stiff around Sephiroth when they had first met. Of course, their first meeting and the close quarters they shared thereafter were anything but welcoming, what with having been stuffed into an uncomfortable wooden crate and shipped halfway across the ocean after mere hours of bumping into one another, but such was Sephiroth's life. His next step was not to be predicted accurately, even by him.

Such is why Sephiroth was not the least bit surprised to find himself looking for some sort of cute, stuffed animal to present Aerith when he gave her the ring. The idea popped out of nowhere; place the ring on the chain, then place the chain on something charming, cuddly, and preferably not alive (Sephiroth really didn't need he to worry about keeping something else alive. He was already having problems with his own life, not to mention the inclusion of Aerith's- he didn't need the burden of another being depending on him).

Sephiroth had always thought teddy bears to be cliché, as something a softer man gave to his woman to appease her after a lover's quarrel. As he wandered down a particular isle within the general store in which teddy bears and stuffed animals of the like cascaded down the shelves, he began to think otherwise. He and Aerith had never truly had an argument, and Sephiroth suspected that, despite the fact that they seemed to get along quite well, it was mostly due to the fact that he couldn't speak. Had he a voice, he was sure his newly developed senses of dry sarcasm and wit would have stuck his foot into his mouth on several occasions, thusly leading up to him, had he a normal life, buying her several teddy bears to compensate his lack of apologetic skills.

While he walked amongst the retail forest filled with cute that was quite over the top, his foot hit something on the ground. Naturally, as when something obscured his path, he was inclined to look down at whatever had caused his foot to falter and was not surprised to see a small teddy bear staring up at him with innocent glass eyes. He was, however, slightly surprised at how cute he believed it to be. Not one for cute things before, Sephiroth almost felt guilty as he gazed downward at the bear upon the floor.

He felt, though quite silly, a little sorry for the bear. Bending at the knees, Sephiroth squatted down and gave the small, cuddly stuffed animal a closer inspection. It was adorable alright- its fur was a deep, rich brown, its eyes were as green as the sea, and the little pink ribbon tied neatly around its neck pulled the endearing and innocent look together into one cotton-stuffing filled creature that could not be passed as anything but lovable and naive.

Sephiroth stood, stuffed animal in hand, and decided that he would present the bear, along with the ring, to Aerith as her gift. He pondered deeply what her reaction might be when she would be presented with such different gifts.

Lost in thought, Sephiroth turned around. He dropped the bear when he almost ran into the younger ninja girl for he hadn't been expecting to see her just a few feet behind him. When had he gotten so sloppy?- he hadn't even felt her presence approaching, he had been so lost in thought.

Yuffie bent down to retrieve the bear Sephiroth had dropped. Without saying a single word, she picked up the bear and held it at arms length toward him. Her face was mostly blank, though her eyes were curious and attentive. Sephiroth reached out and accepted the bear, and nodded once in appreciation.

Finally, the ninja spoke. "Despite everything that's happened, Aerith only has good things to say about you."

The statement struck Sephiroth as somewhat awkward not because Aerith would tell Yuffie anything about him, let alone however good she might think him to be, but rather that it had come from Yuffie herself. When Yuffie spoke, it was as if it wasn't a statement she was proclaiming but, rather, question she was asking. Something along the lines of, 'Aerith trusts you, but can I?'

Yuffie's gaze fell to what Sephiroth held in his hands. Suddenly, the general noticed it had become very hot in the store. He wasn't embarrassed to buy Aerith such a silly gift; he was, however, embarrassed to be seen parading about with it in his hands, in what would most likely be the least manly area of the entire store.

The ninja's lip suddenly pursed in a mock-expression of annoyance mixed with a pout. "You stole my idea!" Her accusations were followed by her pointing directly at the bear in question, and Sephiroth, again, felt rather awkward. It wasn't that she was an annoyance. If anything, Sephiroth could claim that he was slowly becoming used to Yuffie's company. Over the last few days spent in the Shina Mansion with everyone, however, not once had Sephiroth found himself alone with Yuffie. If ever they were in the same room together, so was Vincent and Aerith. Sephiroth thought dryly that had they even been given the chance to be alone together, Yuffie would do most of the talking, as she always seemed to- not that he could contribute much to the conversation anyway.

"I wanted to get her something cute and cuddly, too. That's not fair." Yuffie set her arms across her chest and stuck out her lower lip, trying to look irritated. She mostly looked funny, with the way that she stood and the expression her facial features took, but Sephiroth wasn't going to be the one to tell her such. Yuffie was too much of a fire-cracker; all she needed was an excuse to go off. It was ironic, Sephiroth thought, how well she and Aerith got along with one another, yet how different they really were. "Why are you getting her something so small, though? Don't you think she'd like a great big bear? I know I would want a giant one, that's for sure!"

Sephiroth, glad he had thought to pack his notebook and pens on their little into-town-trip, pulled the small, green spiral book out of his pocket, clicked his pen, and wrote Yuffie a small message.

'Aerith would, much like you, enjoy a larger stuffed bear, I'm sure. We are, however, still traveling, and bringing something that large when walking through wilderness isn't a good idea.'

For the first time, Yuffie smiled directly at the general. Sure, she had smiled in his presence before, mostly due to the jokes she and Aerith had shared, but Yuffie had never really paid much heed to Sephiroth other than the occasional glance during her story-telling and sporadic yes-or-no questions she threw at him, like asking if he would mind putting his plate in the sink, or if he wanted more eggs. Deep down, Sephiroth thought it was rather nice to be getting along with Aerith's friends. It made him feel as though they were his friends as well as hers. He had, after all, shared some rather deep secrets with Vincent only a few nights before.

"Alright, listen up." Yuffie's expression turned devious, like that of a cat who had just found a hidden saucer of cream. "I told Vincent to keep Aerith busy- they're looking for food together, for dinner tonight- so that I could find you and we could find something really awesome for Aerith."

Sephiroth nodded once in understanding.

"I already know what I want to get her, though. She needs clothing! What she's been traveling with inside that puny backpack isn't enough to keep a woman satisfied, no matter how practical it is to pack light."

Cocking an eyebrow, Sephiroth raised his chin while he looked upon the girl and tried to understand the tone under her words.

"Look, the lady needs some new threads! I helped her with her laundry the other night, and all the clothing she has is either fading, dingy, or smells like feet. She needs nicer things to wear."

Pondering such a notion for a moment, Sephiroth had to agree that Aerith, much like himself, was in need of more extensive wardrobe, despite the fact that they didn't have much room in their backpacks for it. Traversing through the mountains without the proper attire had been extremely unpleasant, and that was just for him; Sephiroth's body was toned for obscene climate structures, and if it had been uncomfortable for him, it must have been grueling for Aerith.

Without too much hesitation, Sephiroth nodded toward Yuffie in agreement.

"Good!" Her smile, were it at all possible, became more mischievous. "With both of us picking things out, we can't go wrong."

Sephiroth's heard suddenly sunk. Yuffie wanted him to pick out clothing with her? What experience in the field of women's clothing did he have? Back in Mideel, he hadn't even picked out clothing for himself- Aerith had always neatly lain something for him to wear out on his bed, the thoughtful thing she was. Sephiroth didn't have the slightest idea what Aerith liked to wear (other than pink, of course). With a heavy heart, and even heavier footsteps, Sephiroth followed Yuffie to the women's clothing department. The only instance in which he and women's clothing had crossed had ended up with... well, it was best he tried not to think of his cross-dressing escapade.

The shopping ordeal, however, turned out to be less painful than Sephiroth first suspected. Yuffie seemed to harbor a rather good sense of fashion, and would only consult Sephiroth's opinion when she couldn't make up her mind over something. Envisioning Aerith in something Yuffie held up turned out to be easier than expected. Having been around the flower girl for so long, day in and day out, it was not difficult for Sephiroth to picture what she would look good in, and what she wouldn't.

When it seemed that Yuffie was satisfied with the mountain of clothing she had picked out, she unloaded the garments into Sephiroth's hands and promptly told him to 'wait a minute.' Skeptical that whatever Yuffie was planning would actually take a minute, Sephiroth fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead adjusted some of the clothing in his arms so that the load was easier to carry. Yuffie promptly pulled out a cellular phone and began mashing the buttons. Sephiroth watched as she placed the phone next to her ear and tapped her foot upon the ground, openly indicating her impatience over the fact that the person she was calling had let it ring more than once before picking up.

Finally, there was an answer. "Vincent, it's me- keep Aerith busy, so Seph and I can go home to prepare."

Yuffie swiftly shut the phone, not waiting for reply from the gunman. Sephiroth shifted slightly as the young girl scooped up several things from his arms, as to make his load considerably lighter. "Alright, we're heading home. I had Rama hide a few bags of balloons and streams for me behind the counter so we can get those when we leave."

Sephiroth, whose opinions apparently didn't much matter to Yuffie plans, dutifully followed her to the front of the store and to the checkout. He listened in while Yuffie and Rama made small chit-chat over the presents that were being purchased for Aerith, all three of them packing the clothing into shopping bags and trying to hurry without looking rushed.

Once more, Sephiroth followed Yuffie out of the store after all of their wares had been properly paid for. The journey back to the Shinra Mansion was a short one, and it ended on a bit of a frustrating note.

"I want to lay out Aerith's clothes on her bed for her, as a surprise. Can I count on you to start blowing up the balloons?"

Never having blown up balloons before in his life, Sephiroth gave Yuffie a look that tried to convey a 'are you kidding me' type of message. It seemed, however, to work somewhat. Yuffie sighed, placed her hands on her hips, and tapped her foot on the ground while she tried to think of a solution.

"Fine," she concluded. "I'll hurry up and put the clothes in her room. Can you at least get everything out of the bags for me, and find the tape from the kitchen drawer under the phone? I'll show you how to decorate when I'm finished upstairs."

It wasn't as if he had much time to protest, for once Yuffie had finished speaking she raced for the stairs, bags in hand. Sephiroth, however, didn't care to argue with the girl and meandered into the kitchen and pulled out the drawer underneath the phone. He was lucky enough to have been told the correct location of the tape yet was only able to unearth it after he unloaded half of the drawer's contents.

Vaguely, Sephiroth mused about the house he had shared with Aerith in Mideel, and how the junk drawer had been his own personal mission to clean. He was still determined to get around to it… eventually.

Knowing that Yuffie was bound to take her sweet time, Sephiroth took a moment for himself and placed the present he had bought for Aerith in his bedroom, neatly under the pillow next to his notebook. He quickly made his way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Sephiroth took to the package of balloons, not entirely sure as what to do with them. While he understood that they were to be blown up, he wasn't completely certain how to go about the process of actually getting air into them. The balloons looked rather puny given their state, deflated and shriveled upon the kitchen counter. After several moments of close observation, Sephiroth decided it was a good idea to wait for Yuffie to show him what, exactly, he was meant to do with the wrinkly rubber.

Sure enough, Yuffie tumbled down the stairs moments after Sephiroth became bored of looking at the deflated balloons. She rolled her eyes when she spotted him, pile of balloons on the counter that remained to be inflated. Yuffie demonstrated for the general, who instantly picked up a balloon for himself and blew it up. He tied the loose end in a knot easily enough and tossed the rubbery sphere onto the floor.

In no time at all the two had finished all preparations that included balloons and moved straight for the streamers, whereupon the tape Sephiroth had located earlier began to come in handy. Never one to have planned any type of party before, let alone decorated for one, Sephiroth was designated Yuffie's official taper. The ninja would hold a piece of a streamer or a balloon to the wall and indicate with a simple nod of her head, and the general would swoop in and tape whatever it was directly to the wall. It wasn't the most dignified of jobs, but at least he didn't have to actually do very much: a tape dispenser was far from a formidable enemy for the general.

After the streamers had been placed up, Sephiroth watched Yuffie stand in the middle of the front room to admire the handwork. "I don't suppose we could yell out 'surprise' when Aerith comes home. You can't yell much of anything, and I have a feeling she'd be less than surprised. After all, she kind of knows that we're throwing her a party."

Sephiroth nodded, hoping it was the reaction Yuffie was looking for. He was pleased when the front door wiggled open and he was cut short from having to endure any more of Yuffie's rather odd rhetorical statements. The girl had sounded more like she had been talking to herself than to anyone else in the room, let alone Sephiroth.

"It looks wonderful, you guys!" Aerith's face was aglow when she was lead into the front parlor of the house by Vincent. Like a gentleman, the gunman was carrying what looked to be the heaviest of the grocery bags. Sephiroth caught the pleading look that was shot his way, one that clearly read 'my arms are going to fall off!' and took the initiative to lend Vincent a hand.

Aerith and Yuffie followed them into the kitchen, chatting and smiling.

Sephiroth thought it was nice to see Aerith truly happy for a change. It had been a while since she had smiled so widely, and he missed it so.

Food preparations mostly seemed like a rather frantic ordeal with everyone, all at once, in the kitchen doing something, be it peeling vegetables or cutting meat. Chatter and laughter rang from the tiled floor to the paint-cracked ceilings, and even Sephiroth was prone to a silent chuckle or two when Yuffie was recalling more of her stories involving her horrific sense of balance versus the stairs. Their meal was consumed in much the same way, with mirth and happiness spilling from the faces of all who sat around the oak table. Everything that had been prepared for the meal had merely been placed in the middle of the table so that anyone could take anything they pleased. Such an idea worked well for Sephiroth, for right away he had a feeling that whatever it was Yuffie had prepared might not suit his tastes. To seem polite, he took a small scoop of whatever it was she had concocted, for he couldn't tell what it was meant to be in the slightest, and was not disappointed when he discovered it to be rather salty and tasting of fish and, oddly enough, feet.

After the all of the plates were on their way to the sink, and all of the leftovers had been put away safely into the fridge, Sephiroth noticed it was well passed nightfall. Everyone meandered into the living room, Yuffie and Aerith both nursing their second glass of champagne.

Sephiroth didn't have much taste for the bubbly drink and was more inclined to have a shot of harder liquor. He, however, didn't feel the urge to drink, so he merely poured the champagne when it was asked of him and didn't bother to take any for his own glass. Vincent seemed to be harboring the same idea and only took a few sips of drink when it had been shoved under his nose by a somewhat giddy Yuffie.

"Present time, present time!" Yuffie's whimsical chants were high-pitched and as bubbly as the drink in her glass. Sephiroth through briefly that it was a good idea Vincent had purchased champagne instead of something that contained more alcohol. Yuffie and beer would have made a most annoying couple. The girl was cheery enough when she was sober- copious amounts of alcohol coursing through the ninja would have been too much for the general to handle.

Watching Aerith's reaction to the idea of receiving presents, however, was amusing for Sephiroth in a way that a drunken Yuffie wouldn't have been. The face of the flower girl grew rather pink, and she smiled sheepishly. "You guys threw me a party- I didn't expect you to actually buy me anything."

Vincent tilted his head, curiously. "You're our friend, Aerith. Besides- who knows when next we'll all be able to meet together like this."

Aerith bit her lip. "I'm sorry that I'm making you keep everything from Cloud."

Vincent dismissed Aerith's fret with a wave of his hand. "If I were in your position, I would ask the same thing. I'm sure I'm correct when I assume the fear involved with the situation at hand; You're not avoiding Cloud to hurt him- you're avoiding him so that you both may live. If Cloud were to see the two of you now, there's little doubt in my mind that he would strike Sephiroth down before he would listen to anything he had to say."

Sephiroth was pleased that Vincent understood their plight. The gunman was right in his assumption; Sephiroth no long had much against the blonde swordsman, though he knew that the crossing of steel against steel would be heard long before the trading of words between them.

Aerith's laughed brightened the mood. "Thank you all so much: I feel so special."

Yuffie placed her hands on her hips, slightly sloshing the drink she was holding. "You are special. No more talking about Cloud. I want you to come see your presents!"

Pulling Aerith by the hand, Yuffie lead the flower girl up the stairs.

"I'm so glad that I didn't buy anything heavier than champagne." Vincent's sigh was heavy, an indication that he already knew what Yuffie might have been like had she consumed any more alcohol.

Sephiroth scratched the back of his head, nodding in sheepish agreement.

Several moments of silence were traded between the two men, but it wasn't at all awkward; in fact, it was rather comfortable considering all of the chatter that had commenced when they had all been in the kitchen.

Vincent finally broke the quiet. His look was rather smug, and Sephiroth knew what going to be said before the words fell from the gunman's mouth. "So, Yuffie told me that you bought Aerith a teddy bear."

Well, at least Vincent didn't know about the ring. Sephiroth merely shrugged, trying not to smile. He was growing rather anxious about presenting Aerith's gift to her as the night wore on.

"Are you going to give her the gift anytime soon?"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. Vincent smiled in return. "You might want to do it soon; get your surprise in there before Yuffie chokes Aerith to death with all of those clothes."

Deciding that Vincent's suggestion sounded like a better option than putting off the presentation of his gift for the rest of the night, Sephiroth nodded toward the gunman and made his way to Aerith's room before his nerve was diminished.

He heard Yuffie's ecstatic fit of giggles before he rounded the curve in the stairs, and was again reminded of how happy he was over the purchase of champagne in the stead of heavier alcohol. Poking his head around the door, Sephiroth knocked on the wall and curiously looked inside. Aerith was garbed in one of her new outfits, and Sephiroth instantly felt it was perfect for her.

Aerith and Yuffie looked upon him as he entered the room. Aerith smiled and did a little twirl, showing off her new clothes. "What do you think?"

Sephiroth smiled and nodded in approval.

Yuffie giggled. "I knew I came to the right person!"

Tilting her head in curiosity, Aerith let a look of intrigue cross her features. "What do you mean, Yuffie?"

Again, Yuffie giggled. "Seph was the one to help me pick out all of your clothes. I would pick something out, and he would tell me if he thought it would look good on your or not."

Surprise crossed Aerith's face. "Did he really?"

Sephiroth could feel his face slightly flush. Yuffie nodded, taking another drink from her glass.

"Man's got class and style." Yuffie was particular to emphasize the 'and' in her sentence, though Sephiroth didn't have much time to react to her statement. "Hey, aren't you going to give her your present?"

Aerith's smile returned. "You know you didn't have to get me anything. You already bought me my birthday present." With a flick of her wrist, Aerith indicated the pretty green ribbon that held her hair back.

Sephiroth, now wary of his gift to her, held out his hand to the flower girl and indicated that she should follow him. Yuffie's grin grew as she took yet another swig of champagne, careful to only let Sephiroth see her sly smirk. Aerith took Sephiroth's outstretched hand and was lead out of the door and down the hallway.

Upon entering his own bedroom, Sephiroth let go of Aerith's hand meandered toward his bed. Aerith stopped behind him and gave enough room for the general to compose himself.

Swallowing the huge lump in his throat, Sephiroth gave himself one final mental kick in the pants and decided that it was either now or never. Heaving a large sigh, he pulled the bear with the ring secured neatly around its neck from under his pillow and turned around. He held the bear out, listening intently to the erratic heartbeats that echoed in his ears.

Aerith grinned. "Oh Seph- he's just..."

There was a pause, one that let Sephiroth know the exact moment she spotted the ring upon the chain secured carefully around the neck of the bear. Sephiroth's heart skipped a beat, then thundered so loud he was certain Aerith would hear it.

Emerald eyes widened in awe as they gazed upon the silver ring. Carefully, Aerith's fingers unclasped the chain from around the neck of the stuffed animal. She clasped the ring in her fingers, tightly, staring down at it in awe. "It's beautiful." Her whisper was barely audible. Sephiroth swallowed again, trying to rid his throat of its sudden dryness.

Aerith looked up at him, a small smile beginning to spread across her face. Sephiroth saw the hints of wetness at the corner of her eyes.

"Oh Sephiroth, I love it!"

Before the general had time to react, much less time to think, Aerith had thrown her arms around his waist and had pulled him into a gentle embrace. Letting out the deep breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Sephiroth slowly reached out and tenderly entwined his arms around her in return.

Despite the heavy feeling of elation and the lightness of his heart, Sephiroth could vaguely hear Vincent and Yuffie in the next room, quietly laughing.

Shutting out the rest of the world, even if only for a few moments, Sephiroth allowed himself to cradle Aerith in his arms, free of guilt, and gave himself his first memory of pure happiness.


	40. Elude

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 40: Elude

The house was still when Sephiroth awoke. What little sunlight that filtered through the drapes warmed spots on his bed. The general, however, didn't open his eyes. Though he knew it to be nearing the time he was used to waking, he didn't want to move despite the fact that he found himself to be extremely uncomfortable in his bedding.

In a sudden rush of irritation, Sephiroth kicked the bedding from atop his body and let out an exasperated sigh. Many years had passed since last he could recall actually having a dream. With what had been done to him while in holding at the Shinra laboratories, Sephiroth had, by a very young age, learned to force his mind to forget whatever dreams that occurred during what little peace sleep offered him.

It had been a long time since such a terrible feeling had taken hold of Sephiroth's body –not since he was a child- and fear gripped at the veiled line that separated his reality from chaos. It wasn't often that his innards quaked with irritation and restlessness; in fact, it was quite rare. Sephiroth wiped a few thin beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He shifted in the bed, seeking comfort in a different position. Yet, no matter how he stretched, his nerves were frayed.

The worse part, however, was that Sephiroth was unable to discern the cause of his unease.

His dream hadn't been bad. It hadn't been good either, and Sephiroth found himself rather bewildered over the fact that he was having such a difficult time recalling it. Whatever had happened while he was asleep had been nearly forgotten when he had woken, though the rush of adrenaline that had shaken him awake was ebbing almost to the point of disappearance, despite his having been awake for several minutes.

Sephiroth let out another sigh and tossed his legs over the side of his bed. The cold of the wood floor was a welcome shock to the bottom of his feet. He ran a hand through his bangs before he stood.

It was a surprise, though not an unwelcome one, when Sephiroth entered the kitchen and found Aerith sitting at the table with a bowl of strawberries and sugar in front of her. She looked up, slightly startled, when Sephiroth entered the kitchen. A small smile crossed her face as she pushed the bowl of fruit toward her companion.

He accepted and plucked one of the larger berries off of the top of the pile. When he bit down, it was sweet and tart at the same time.

The two continued to eat in silence until the bowl was empty. Aerith traced her finger along the bottom of the bowl, picking up bits of sugar and juice, and licked the remains off, obviously saddened by the lack of more.

There was long silence shared between them. It was finally broken when Sephiroth coughed, quite by accident and out of need rather than to fill the quiet, and Aerith took it as a cue to speak.

"I think it's about time we left."

Sephiroth then realized the restlessness he felt in his body when he had awoken: it was the need to vacate, the urge to travel.

Back in Mideel, he had fallen in such a routine alongside Aerith that he hardly noticed as the days began to turn into weeks. After they had left their quiet lifestyle, however, it seemed that Sephiroth's body had once again picked up the habits of a wanderer; waking early, sleeping lightly, never being able to rest his legs for long before the urge to move began to bite at them.

Sephiroth, in reaction to Aerith's statement after several moments of thought, nodded. Perhaps the situation was easier with her understanding it was time to leave, rather than waiting until the last minute when Cloud would be prone to show up any second. Based off pervious, near miss, encounters with Cloud, Sephiroth felt it better if they refrained from taking any chances.

He was, after all, beginning to truly enjoy his new life, despite everything going on in it.

"I was hoping to ask you a favor, though." This time, Aerith made eye contact with Sephiroth's. He instantly knew her request to be of the serious kind and immediately gave her his attention with a nod, making sure she knew his awareness was centered around her.

"I want to visit Cosmo Canyon."

The request, much to Sephiroth's surprise, wasn't as unusual as he had been suspecting.

"There is a library there that has books about the Cetra, about my people. I want to read some of them."

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

Aerith's cheeks took on a slight pink color as she diverted her gaze from his. "I never really got a chance to find out more about myself, or where I come from. I think it would be nice to know about my past, the past of my people."

Turning his head, Sephiroth felt his chest grow heavy for a moment. Is finding out about who, or what, you truly are so important?

"I'm sorry." Aerith's amends was quick, though not without meaning. "It's just that, well, you got to find out about who you are from Vincent, and I don't really know that much about myself. I want to know who I am."

Sephiroth looked toward the flower girl and shot her a slightly scrutinizing look. What did it matter what her ancestors were like? All that held significance to Sephiroth was that she was, to him, important in her own right.

He forced, however, his face to show a slightly less terse expression. If she wanted to read books about the people she descended from, by all means she had the right. If she was unsure of who she was simply because she was unsure of those who came before her, then Sephiroth would help her. That is what, he decided, it all came down to. He would try his best to please her, and the act didn't get much easier than taking her to a library and letting her read a few history books.

"I have a friend in Cosmo Canyon, as well." Sephiroth watched Aerith bite her lip when she paused. "I'm not sure how he will react to you, so I was going to ask Vincent or Yuffie to come with us as far as the canyon or something."

Again, Sephiroth raised his eyebrow. Was her sudden want to travel to Cosmo Canyon due to her thirst for her history or her want to reunite with her friends? Either way, he decided as he lowered his eyebrow and relaxed his expression again, he would follow her to the edge of the stars and back if that is what made her smile.

Sephiroth's simple nod seemed to be exactly what Aerith had been hoping for. The slight tension that had built up in the room was released when she smiled up at him. He let a slight grin tug at the corners of his lips to reassure her.

"We should go pack, then. I'll talk to Vincent and Yuffie about our plans when they wake up."

With that, Aerith placed the empty bowl into the sink and made her way down the hall and up the stairs toward her room. Sephiroth, at the last minute, noticed a slight sparkle twisted around Aerith's neck. He slyly grinned to himself when he realized that she was wearing the ring upon the chain around her neck. He followed her upstairs only a few moments later, having wiped the smirk from his face.

Sephiroth had only finished packing a few moments before Yuffie charged into his room, without knocking it is to be added, with a rather fretful look about her face.

"Get out!" The simple statement is all that was exchanged between them.

Not yet accustomed to reading meaning behind the ninja's words, Sephiroth merely raised an eyebrow in question toward the youth, not sure how else to go about the situation of being practically ordered to 'get out.' Out of where; the room, the house, the city, or the solar system?

Yuffie, seemingly slightly agitated that the white-haired man before couldn't read her mind, flailed her arms in front of her while making a rather painful looking face. "Cloud just called and told us that he's over in Rocket Town visiting Cid's new kid, and wanted to know if he could stop by to say 'hi' to Vinnie and me."

Sephiroth gazed curiously at Yuffie, signaling that he knew there was more to the story than where she had decided to suddenly stop.

Again, Yuffie's arms waved wildly in front of her. "So what the hell do you think Vincent told him? He's stopping by in a day or two! We have to get you out of here, or else Spike's gonna chop you up!"

Before Sephiroth could do much in the field of reactions for what Yuffie and practically yelled at him, the girl had shot out of his bedroom and down the hallway where she began to pound on Aerith's door.

Nearly forgetting it from the night before, Sephiroth dashed to his bed and pulled from under his pillow the journal he had been keeping since he and Aerith had left Mideel. It was a Godsend the flower girl hadn't found and read it yet, and Sephiroth intended to keep it that way. He was pleased that the day before when she had found it she hadn't pressed the matter of what was kept inside. Opening his bag, he stuffed the book into the bottom-most compartment and zipped it securely in place. He began toward Aerith's room without any more hesitation.

"I just heard the news." Aerith was running from the dresser to her bed, stuffing her new clothing into her backpack and trying frantically to locate her missing sock, the mate of which was fit upon her right foot.

Sephiroth stopped Aerith by the shoulders and took a deep breath, signaling with a few nods that she should follow his lead. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The tension in her shoulders lessened, though it didn't completely disappear. When she opened her eyes, she attempted let a small smile cross her features. He let her go and helped her finish packing.

Vincent, phone in hand, made his entrance into Aerith's room just as Sephiroth had zipped up their last bag. "I can take you as far as the outskirts of town, but I don't think it would be wise for very many people to see me leave with you."

Aerith nodded, then looked out her window a little frantically.

Continuing, Vincent turned his gaze to Sephiroth. "I'm going to call ahead and tell Red to expect you."

Turning from the window, Aerith's breath hitched. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Vincent closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with the fingers on his good hand. "I don't know what else I can do for you other than talk to him first. If I leave now, I don't know if I would be able to make it back before Cloud arrives, and then what am I to tell him? This situation, no matter what we do, will not be easy. If, however, I speak with Red first, I think that our chances of chaos are lessened."

Sephiroth, taking the initiative, placed his hand on Aerith's shoulder to signify that he was ready to go if she was willing to follow. She didn't look at him when she turned, but Sephiroth could feel the resolve she had suddenly filled herself with, though where exactly she found it he was uncertain. She picked up her bag from the foot of the bed and looked at Vincent, determined. "We shouldn't waste any more time, then."

Yuffie was waiting for them at the doorway, a bag filled up with food rations in hand. She hugged Aerith with a face full of smiles and good wishes, reassuring the flower girl that they would see one another again soon enough, but Sephiroth could detect the sadness and fear being the ninja's words. She was wondering, fretting, over what was going to happen to them next, and was unsure of their ability to circumnavigate trouble. Offering up her open palm in a gesture of friendship, Yuffie shook the hand of the general and told him to take care. He smiled in return, and then followed Aerith and Vincent out the front door.

True to his word, Vincent only traveled with them a few hundred feet out of town. "This is where our paths split for another while, it would see."

Sephiroth, in an offer of truly meant friendship, offered up his hand toward the gunman. Vincent shook it, an obvious look of understanding crossing his face before they parted. Aerith did the same, though Sephiroth could tel she would like a good-bye hug a little more.

"I'll phone the old fire-cat right now. If anything goes wrong, I'll find you before you get there, alright?"

Aerith nodded in silence. Sephiroth followed the motion.

"Once last thing," Vincent began, pulling from his cape a small bundle of cloth, tied together with string. "Aerith, there are a few things in here I think that you need to see. I wish I could present these to you in a better way, but our time together, for now, is short, and what is in here are things you need to see."

Curious, Aerith outstretched her hand and accepted the package.

Before, however, Vincent let the parcel go, he looked Aerith directly in the eyes and took on a slightly solemn expression. "Wait a while before you read it, alright? Give yourself a little time to gather up some strength."

"Vincent, what exactly is-"

The gunman released the package and held up his hand, silencing the flower girl with a stern look. "It's not my place. I'm am to leave you now. As I said, if plans go awry with Red, or Cloud for that matter, I'll find you before things turn for the worse."

Aerith tucked the parcel in her bag, curious and slightly frightened look about her face.

"I suppose this is goodbye." The gunman smiled slightly. "Take care of one another. Until next time."

Aerith and Sephiroth watched as Vincent turned his back against them while he marched back to town. He was, just as promised, on his phone.

"Well, I guess we better start walking." Aerith's expression, despite her previous moods, was bright. Sephiroth smiled back at her and began to follow behind.


	41. Helpless

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 41: Helpless

The day was nearing an end as they traversed the stone steps up toward the canyon named for the starts. Sephiroth was feeling extremely uncomfortable, dreading his inevitable meeting with the fire-cat Aerith had been so enthusiastically speaking of for practically the entire afternoon. Supposing that not much had gone wrong on Vincent's end of the bargain, seeing as the gunman hadn't yet stopped their journey, Sephiroth assumed that a long chat had been in order between Aerith's old friends and something of some sort had been worked out between the two. Sephiroth vaguely wondered what Vincent had, indeed, told the feline in order to sedate what the swordsman would guess to be inevitable anger in hearing that he had been resurrected and was traveling, as guard, with the flower girl.

Sephiroth could hear the pacing of large animal paws as he and Aerith neared the last bend of the canyon's road before they entered the city. He paused, turning his head to the side in order to look at Aerith. Attempting to communicate was going to be difficult, for he knew the fire-cat had heard them approaching already, hence his pacing. Trying to be as subtle as possible, Sephiroth nodded his head in a slightly sideways indication, signifying his want for Aerith to walk in front of him.

She smiled at him, an obvious attempt to silently reassure him. Sephiroth mustered up what little courage he felt was needed and offered up a weak, slightly tense-looking smile in return.

They continued, Aerith in front. They hardly passed but a hundred feet when Sephiroth heard the pacing paws come to a halt. "Who travels through the canyon at such a late hour?" The voice was deep, gruff, and riddled with stress and worry.

Sephiroth watched the smile stretch out on Aerith's face, tears beginning to brim her crystalline eyes. "An old friend."

A drumming sound began to flood the canyon walls as four heavy paws bounded around the corner. The fire beast skidded to a halt and then stood rigid as if afraid of what he might witness were he to move. Deep eyes suddenly burned with a happy fire. The cat started toward them again, features aglow as he bounded nearer the flower girl. Skidding to a halt at Aerith's feet, the animal positively brimmed with excitement.

Aerith threw her arms around the neck of the cat, pulling him as close as she could manage. Sephiroth looked on while the fire-beast, Red, nuzzled his face against that of the flower girl.

"I knew it! I knew Vincent wasn't lying! The elders reported a disturbance in the flow of the lifestream just a few months ago, and I knew deep in my heart that something amazing happened! Never in a thousand years would I ever believe such a feat to be possible but, Aerith, here you are, flesh and blood, before me again just as you were two and a half years ago!"

Aerith laughed into Red's mane, fur stealing away what few happy tears escaped her eyes. "I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you so much!"

Red's ears drew back as he pulled away from the embrace of the flower girl. "If you missed me so much, why didn't you come to visit me? Why did you have to hide?"

Hesitating, Aerith inclined her head slightly toward Sephiroth. His eyes met with hers for a brief moment before the fire-cat let out a menacing growl.

"There were a few holes in the conversation I had with Vincent that I still don't understand. Why do you travel with this one, Aerith? Is he not the epitome of terror?"

Sephiroth swallowed dejectedly and turned his head. Even had he a voice, what was there to tell? Hell, he couldn't offer up an excuse, much less an apology, to Red for he knew the animal wouldn't take it. Though Sephiroth had physically done no harm to Red, the general knew that stealing away his friend by means of cold steel had been enough to earn the cat's well-placed hatred. Apologies would most likely earn him another deep, ominous growl.

"Please, Red, let's talk about his like rational beings." Sephiroth noticed Aerith was smart enough to omit the word 'humans' when talking to her furry friend. She always tended to be kind.

Red turned back to Aerith, his ears pressed against the top of his head. "If you are to travel back into the canyon with me, we must stay well hidden. I've no problems in withholding the truth from Cloud for a while if he asks of you, but I will not ask my people to lie: I wish to move so that none see us, so that there is no danger to you. I don't much like the idea of him being in my home, and let it be known that he isn't welcome in the slightest, but I will adhere to Vincent's pleas and swallow my hatred of him for you, Aerith."

Aerith, curiously, pried her friend for something less ambiguous with her subtle way of speech. "Vincent was pleading? I can hardly see that, Nanaki!"

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow. Why was the flower girl calling her beastly friend by yet another name? He was slightly inclined to ask her later, though he began to follow their conversation again after tucking away his mental questioning to the back of his mind.

"He pleaded in his own way, a little. He kept repeating himself about how much everything had changed, and how I needed to reevaluate my opinion before I attacked. I suppose it's good he suggested I think, something I am good at, before I struck with my claws, of which am better."

The fire-cat turned his eyes toward Sephiroth, and the general caught the veiled threat. Unblinking, Sephiroth merely nodded, somewhat gently. Red blinked once in slight surprise, almost a flinch, as if he hadn't expected any form of reaction from Sephiroth other than pompous anger or cruel facial expressions.

Sephiroth would have to be careful to keep his expression stoic while in Red's presence: he already had a preconceived opinion of the general, not that Sephiroth blamed him, that was clouding his vision and thought process, despite his attempts to discern bias as Vincent had asked of him. Any off-move might wind up with Sephiroth's blood spilling from several perpendicular lines upon his person; something which he imagined would be far from pleasant.

"Follow me," the cat declared, slinking into the shadows of the canyon walls. Sephiroth steadied the bag upon his back and followed Aerith into the shadows.

The canyon was empty, for the most part. Several older gentlemen sat around the great flame and reminisced of older, less complicated times. None of them noticed the three figures slink through the shadows, and even if they had Sephiroth doubted their old eyes would register much of what was going on. Older eyes meant less reliability, and the men that laughed around the fire had some of the oldest faces Sephiroth could recall. One didn't grow old in Midgar before you passed on, the general supposed. Polluted air and corrupt people have a way of bringing the downtrodden further into despair, and with despair often comes a young death. These men were of the canyon, understanding in the ways of nature, and didn't seem to actively care much for what went on outside of their own personal bubble while they ate their late meal and chatted with old friends around a warm fire.

Red stopped them when they neared the door to the inn. He went in first, only passing halfway through the door. He lifted himself upon his haunches and sniffed the air, and then became still for a few moments. Landing back upon all of his paws, he signaled with his head that he wished to be followed.

The old set of stairs they crept up, much to Sephiroth's surprise, didn't creak in the slightest.

Red opened the bedroom door with a slight push of his nose, then ushered Sephiroth and Aerith inside. "I'm going to speak to the inn-keep: I'll be gone only a moment." The last statement was directed at Sephiroth.

Though Sephiroth understood the fire-cats mistrust to be well placed, considering the generals past transgressions when in the company of Aerith, he couldn't help but feel slightly resentful. Sephiroth knew Red understood that he and Aerith had been traveling together for many weeks now. So far, Sephiroth had done nothing to harm her and had, on several occasions, delivered her from the harm others wished to inflict upon her. Even if Sephiroth had been planning to hurt Aerith, something now he would never dream of, he had already been graced with time to prove otherwise. Why, he and Aerith had just spent the majority of the day walking alone through the plains, and then again through the windy canyon. Had Sephiroth the slightest inclining to kill Aerith, he had already been provided with optimum time to do so. Surely the cat had noticed that she was unscathed, thanks to Sephiroth's sword making damned sure no monsters went near her.

Well, the general mused somewhat bitterly to himself, it was to be expected and he shouldn't blame Aerith's over-protective friend.

Aerith sat down on one of the beds, unloading the bag off of her back, and Sephiroth followed her example on the bed opposite. Red returned a few moments later with a small bag clenched in his massive jaw. Wasting no time, he leapt upon Aerith's bed, deposited the bag, and got right down to business.

"I've brought you something to eat while you tell me your story."

Aerith smiled, taking the bag from where it had been placed, and began rifling through it. "Thank you, Red. Won't the inn keeper find us here in the morning, though?"

Shaking his mane, Red let out a soft sound Sephiroth supposed must have been a small chuckle. "No, I spoke to him once this morning after I talked with Vincent, and again just now. I merely told the inn keeper that I needed the room for the night, and that I wished not to be disturbed. When he pressed as to why I needed the room, I told him that I was expecting one of grandfather's old friends, and that he was merely passing through."

Aerith pulled an apple from the bag and offered it to Sephiroth. He took it without hesitation, as he had become used to in the company of the flower girl. Sephiroth saw Red's upper lip twitch slightly when their hands touched.

"Please tell me your story, Aerith." Red's tale swiped back and forth a few times, impatiently.

"Well," Aerith began, taking a bite of her apple, "what has Vincent told you so far?"

Aerith and Red exchanged stories well into the night, the flower girl filling in plot-holes of their journey that the fire-cat had missed out on during his talk with Vincent. It was nearing the early morning of the hours when their tales had been spun and the room fell quiet.

"You truly cannot speak, then?" Red's gaze had, slowly through the night, changed from fretful and full of anger to mildly amused and slightly curious.

Sephiroth shook his head, rubbing his sore, tired eyes thereafter.

Red was silent for a few moment moments. Sephiroth suspected he was formulating more questions for him. "It seems you truly are her guardian. You've saved her life a few times, then."

"Several times," Aerith corrected. "He took me to the hospital when we first woke up, he saved me from the Midgar Zolom, he rescued me from the slavers, and don't get me started on how many monsters he's made sure don't get anywhere near me."

Sephiroth was slightly pleased to hear Aerith had noticed that he had purposely always ventured before her upon encountering enemies upon the fields. It wasn't that he doubted her strength – of that he knew well enough – it was merely him wanting to gain slight affection through chivalry. He let the slightest of smiles grace his lips. He noticed the slight smirk on Aerith's features as he did so, and was greatly pleased that she had remembered to kindly omit the bit of their journey which had him in heels, a woman's kimono, with a pair of grapefruits shoved down his top.

Red's tail flicked back and forth again. It was obvious to Sephiroth that the beast was fighting himself on the inside, torn between hatred and trust.

"I suppose that, while you are still not entirely welcome here, you can stay as long as you need to."

It felt as though a large stone had been lifted out of the pit of Sephiroth's stomach. Deep down, based off the cold looks Red had constantly shot his way during the night, Sephiroth had feared Red would not believe Aerith and call Cloud.

It seemed that Aerith had thoughts that were also leaning in such a direction for as soon as the words fell from his mouth, she wrapped her arms around Red's neck and smiled happily, thanking him for his faith.

The fire-cat left soon after, instructing Aerith and Sephiroth to try and sleep for most of the day, as he would prefer if they were not seen during the sunlit hours outside of their room.

Happily agreeing, Sephiroth pulled his boots off and was under the covers after but a few seconds. He would shower when he woke, and worry about what to do next when he rose. Following much of the same idea, Aerith unlaced her shoes, changed into her pajamas in the bathroom, and climbed into bed only a few minutes later.

"Sephiroth?" Aerith's quiet whisper sounded through the darkened room.

The general rolled over on his mattress, letting Aerith know he was awake and had heard her. He heard her rustle slightly, as if reaching out for something, and knew immediately that she hugged to her chest the bear he had bought her only days before.

"I forgive you."

Sephiroth laid his head upon his pillow and closed his eyes, contemplating Aerith's words. She always spoke them, but what message did she have hidden behind them?

It was many hours later that Sephiroth finally found it in him to sleep, despite his tired mind and body.

He awoke to the springs in Aerith's bed creaking. Sephiroth's body, slightly stiff, protested to waking with a sounding crack of his shoulder blades as he sat. Aerith, clothed, smiled up at him as he put his feet to the floor.

"You've been asleep for a while." She tilted her head and gazed curiously at him.

Sephiroth pointed to his wrist, indicating he wished to know the time. Aerith merely shrugged. "It's past dinner and it's already getting late. We were up until really late this morning, so I don't feel so bad about waking up when it's dark out."

Tossing the covers aside, Sephiroth leaned over and rested his head in his hands, placing his elbows to his knees. A few more bones on his person cracked in protest of his stretching, but he gave little heed.

"I've already talked to Red, and he's going to make sure that the library is empty for me tonight so I can pick up a few books to read."

Sephiroth nodded, keeping his gaze upon the floor.

"He's even being kind enough to let me borrow them on our journey, provided I promise to take good care of them."

Sephiroth nodded in understanding once more, sitting up straight. He slowly looked to Aerith, curiously.

"I was going to use some time in the library to open the package that Vincent gave me. I'm a little nervous about finding out what's inside, but that's what makes surprises so exciting. Do you think you'll come up to visit me later?"

This time, Sephiroth reached for his notebook.

'I think that you'll do fine on our own, but I must warn you against getting your hopes up about the parcel Vincent gave you.'

Aerith tilted her head after reading the message, twining a stray piece of hair behind her ears. "What do you mean?"

Sephiroth sighed, as he could think of no easy way to convey his discomfort regarding the package. 'I have a bad feeling that whatever is inside it will only bring sadness.'

Fidgeting, Aerith bit her lip. "I understand. After all, the way Vincent talked about it when he gave it to me made the thing sound diseased. But he said it was something I needed to see, so I guess I should open it."

Sephiroth nodded. He could tell Aerith's curiosity had been greatly intrigued by what Vincent had given her, and little would deter her from opening it regardless of what outcome might be in store for her. Nevertheless, Sephiroth had a bad feeling about the package. His heart twitched uncomfortably when he thought of it.

The sound of a heavy paw petting the doorframe echoed through the room. "May I come in?"

"Of course, Red." Sephiroth watched as Aerith's face lit up when her friend pushed the door open with his nose and poked his head inside the room.

"The library is clear, if you'd like to follow me up."

Aerith turned to Sephiroth and smiled. "Do you want to come with us, or are you going to stay here?"

Again, Sephiroth reached for his notebook.

'I think that I'll bathe, and then perhaps join you.'

Smiling, Aerith nodded. "Alright then: Red, it's just you and I for a little while."

Red nodded and backed out of the room, willing Aerith to follow with the motion he made over his shoulder.

Sephiroth looked to Aerith, slightly perturbed to see her clutching the parcel Vincent had given her. Still, he knew Aerith would not be discouraged from opening that which she had become so infatuated with. She turned to him once again. "I'll see you in a little while."

Nodding in affirmation, Sephiroth stood and followed Aerith to the door. He closed it tightly after her, heading immediately for the bathroom. His body seemed tense and sore, as if the all of the time he had spent sleeping that day had worked more havoc on his body than done good. The hot water that jetted unevenly out of the showerhead beat mercilessly upon his body until he glowed with a rather unbecoming shade of pink. Sephiroth, however, ignored the pigmentation his skin had taken merely based off the fact that the warm water had felt so welcome against his sore body.

Twisting most of the moisture out of his hair and letting what was left moist to air-dry, Sephiroth donned a pair of pants and made his way back into the bedroom.

Sephiroth was startled to see Red sitting atop Aerith's bed. The beast flicked his tail back and forth a few times, curiously and silently observing Sephiroth with deep, intense eyes. "It is so strange to hear Aerith speak nothing but praise of you when I have come so accustomed to hating your memory."

Not sure how to react to such a statement, Sephiroth merely remained still while Red gazed upon him.

"Vincent, too, shared a great deal about you, though there is much I am sure he kept to himself out of respect. That, in itself, is strange: Vincent's respect is as elusive as the man himself. I, however, have come to you on different terms."

Sephiroth, knowing that the cat was beckoning him over with intriguing words, sat upon his own bed and took a deep breath. It was the first time the general and the animal had been physically near one another while alone, or at least that Sephiroth could remember. Before, in his previous life, Sephiroth had no true qualms with Red, only that he partied with Aerith and Cloud. It was obvious that the cat had fought onward for many of his own reasons.

Red shifted his weight from one shoulder to the other. "Vincent asked me to throw away my preconceived opinions of you. At first, I was uncertain of my abilities to do so, but as I spend more time in your company the more I believe I've come to understand about you. Aerith doesn't fear you, though she travels in your constant presence, and based off her testimony you have saved her on several occasions. I find this very interesting, considering your previous record while in her company."

Sephiroth swallowed with great difficulty. Leave it to Aerith to have philosophical, observant, and seemingly incredibly intelligent beings as friends. He wished dearly that the cat would stop beating around the damned bush and just get to the point. Sephiroth hated being analyzed: who was someone else to say what he was thinking, or the reasons behind his actions?

Continuing, ignoring the obvious tension that was building in the room, Red shifted his weight from side to side once more and heaved a lengthy sigh.

"I used to hate you, knowing that you killed a friend who was so precious to me. In one simple night I have come to pity you, knowing in detail what you have gone through in order to redeem yourself, and of what left you have to accomplish."

Sephiroth looked at his hands with empty eyes. No physical blood coated his fingers, but he knew the lives he had torn asunder could still be traced back to his hands. A cold shiver ran down as spine as he coherently thought of the lives he had taken without mercy for the first time in many years.

"I suppose this is making you uncomfortable, so I'll merely speak my mind. I wish to know exactly what Aerith is to you."

The general's eyes shot up, meeting Red's. The beast tilted his head, intrigued.

"Vincent told me of the way you behave while in her company, and I, too, see it. I speak and think as a human, but my animal senses still compel me: I can see the change in you when you look at her, and when your eyes meet. I wish, however, to know what it is exactly you think of her."

Sephiroth knew his face to be turning red. Suddenly, his eyes found the pattern on the hard-wood floor to be rather interesting. Silently, he cursed Vincent for daring to open his mouth on such a delicate subject.

He could practically hear the smile that befell the feline maw of the being across from him. "I suspected Vincent of warping the truth, but it seems that he was, as he always is, honest. You care for Aerith in ways that you don't believe are just, do you not?"

Snatching his notebook from the bedside stand, Sephiroth scribbled his message and prayed to Shiva that the cat had been gifted with the ability to read.

'I have no explanation or apology as to why I feel this way, and I plan to withhold any kind of affirmation of my feelings until I am able to speak with Aerith confidently about the matter.'

Red tossed his mane from side to side after reading the message. "You haven't told her then, I assume?" Sephiroth swore that the cat was grinning.

'No, and I am unsure as to what exactly to say about anything pertaining to the matter. There are more problematic things to worry about right now.'

"So formal, Sephiroth: it almost seems that you're uncomfortable when you talk about your feelings regarding Aerith."

He couldn't believe it: the fire-cat was mocking him!

'Wouldn't it be only natural to keep quiet my declaration considering what I've done to her, and all that I've taken away? She should care for me as I do for her.'

Sephiroth's statement wiped the smile from Red's face. Seriousness looked rather dangerous on the cat. "How Aerith feels is not for you to decide. You must, however, be true to yourself. You mustn't lock yourself away, Sephiroth. Out of all that has passed, considering all that Aerith has taught you, this is the one thing you should understand."

A long, poignant pause filled the room. Despite only knowing Red for a few hours, he had already taken to offering advice.

'You are very wise, old fire-cat.'

The feline smile crossed Red's face again. "I've been told many times that I can sound wise when I wish to, but I've never been called old before."

Sephiroth, slightly curious, tilted his head.

"By my years I am roughly fifty. But in human years, I've only just turned seventeen."

Sephiroth balked slightly. He had just received love advice from a teenaged cat: how strangely pathetic his love life was turning out to be.

"Now, correct me if I am wrong, but you most likely want to be with Aerith as she opens the parcel that was spoken of earlier. Shall I take you to her?" Red sat up and leapt from the bed, stopping himself before he neared the door.

Sephiroth stood up, aiming to pick up his shirt from the end of his bed before he did so, but was troubled by a huge wave of dizziness. He clutched the end of the bed for support, and pressed a hand to his forehead.

Red turned around and looked upon him, questioning with his eyes.

The room spun, and Sephiroth found himself shutting his eyes tight and pressing his fingers against his closed eye-lids in a futile attempt to advert the pain. Vertigo began to set in as a terrible tremor wracked his body. Before he could stop himself, Sephiroth fell to the floor.

Extremely disturbed by what was happening, Red scrambled over to Sephiroth's side. He pressed a paw against the general and made a low, whining noise. "What's wrong? What happened?"

A terrible feeling took hold of Sephiroth's insides, and he knew all at once what misery was. His body shook with anger, terror, and desolation all at once. A cold sweat broke out upon his brow and he curled his legs to his chest in a fruitless attempt to make the room stop spinning.

Red whined again, pressing harder against Sephiroth's shoulder. "What is going on? What do you need me to do?"

Sephiroth suddenly understood what was happening: Aerith was in some sort of peril, and the connection they shared was being put to the test. It seemed the bond they shared, what with being connected to the other's life force, was deeper than Sephiroth had previously guessed. Something was happening to Aerith, and now Sephiroth feared for the worst.

He could feel the bile rise in his throat as he stood, but Sephiroth would not be deterred from helping Aerith when she needed him most. He swallowed the urge to vomit.

Red growled. "What in Ifrit's name is going on, damnit?"

Sephiroth looked to red, meeting his eyes. Sephiroth tried to convey a sense of fearful worry toward the cat, silently, and it seemed to work. Red's tail twisted and he looked to the door. "I don't understand you completely, but I have my suspicions. Lead the way."

Not needing another open invitation, Sephiroth swung open the door and bounded into the hall. As he quietly ran, Red close at his heels, he opened his mind and searched for Aerith. What he was met with stunned him so terribly he nearly tripped. An overwhelming sense of helplessness and depression overtook him until he felt as though he would surely die. Something awful was happening, and Sephiroth was terrified to find out what it was.

The twisting curve of the inn ended and Sephiroth bounded outside and down the main steps of the canyon, into the dark of the night. The sound of trickling water was easily heard in the quiet of the night, and Sephiroth found himself drawn toward it. He easily slid down an embankment of loose gravel, bypassing the trail completely, and landed upon his feet in front of a small creek and a heap of shaking flesh. How had Aerith managed to retreat from the library so quickly? It didn't matter: all that Sephiroth's mind could process was that she was not hurt.

Sephiroth watched Aerith turn around when she heard him approach. Her face was tear-stricken and red, her eyes puffy and looking as though she was fighting off some terrible inner-torment.

Her gaze became cold, and a new wave of emotions hit Sephiroth like a bullet hitting a glass wall.

Aerith turned away, hiccupping. Her sorrow permeated the canyon and the area around it: even Red laid his ears flat against the top of his head.

"I finally find out the things I've always wanted to know, and all it's brought me was the wish to shrink away from the world."

She hiccupped again, wiping a tear from her face with the back of her hand.

"The thing that Vincent gave me was a book of research notes, and a bundle of letters. The notes were of my mother, of my father, and of me."

Aerith turned her head slightly sideways, toward where Sephiroth stood. "Do you know what happened to my father and my mother, Sephiroth?"

Sephiroth swallowed with great difficulty.

Picking the piece of paper up from where it laid in her lap, Aerith held it up over her head and waved it. "Your father, Hojo, killed my father. A man I never knew, a man I would never be able to love and admire, was shot by the man who ruined the rest of my life. Hojo killed my father, Sephiroth, and he turned to my mother next. I was little when she died, but memories like that don't fade. Your father killed her too, inadvertently, with his experiments."

Aerith heaved a heavy sigh, apparently trying to keep her tears in check. Her voice was deadpan, though Sephiroth could see her shake.

"And the list goes on," she continued. "Hojo experimented on and nearly killed Vincent. Did you know that? He screwed with Zax, the first boy to steal my heart, and with Cloud as well. Everything Hojo has done has some sort of impact on my life."

Not being able to hold her emotions inside of her any longer, Aerith crumpled and began to sob. Sephiroth's first reaction was to run to her, but she threw her arms behind her and tried to swat him away. "Everything precious in my life has been taken from me by none other than your father, Sephiroth, and his obsession with that witch from the skies, Jenova."

She sobbed again, screaming in frustration, pounding the earth with her small fists. "Is it some sort of unspoken, unknown vendetta Hojo has against me, or my parents? It's only fitting that his son finished the job for him, don't you think?"

Running her hands through her hair, Aerith screamed.

The sound rang through the canyon.

Red pressed his body toward the ground, unsure how to react.

Sephiroth felt as though he had been shot in the heart.

He took a step toward Aerith.

She stood and threw the notebook at him, missing. A trail of letters fluttered to the ground in its wake. Sephiroth stood still for a moment.

"Do you know what those are, Sephiroth? Those are all of the letters Zax wrote me during his travels. Hojo kept them because he thought they were amusing. Amusing, do you hear me? Your father was one sick bastard!"

Sephiroth observed and understood, within the span of a few seconds, the true human side of Aerith. She forgave and was kind because of her Cetra heritage, but human jealousies and hatred could often outweigh the good aspects of a person. She was no exception. No one, after all, was completely without flaw: perfection was a fairytale.

He knew that she didn't blame him, but that there was no where else to point her finger and direct her rage. He, however, would gladly take it all, if only for her.

Taking another step toward her, Sephiroth held out his hands.

Aerith flung herself to the canyon wall, pressing her back against the red stone. "Don't you understand? You're stealing my happiness away from me just like your father did! When I'm with you, I can't see my friends! I can't see my mother again because of you! She thinks I'm dead! What would happen if I suddenly knocked on her door! Do you understand the problems that would cause?"

Undeterred by her anger and spite, Sephiroth took another step toward Aerith, arms remaining outstretched as if he wished to embrace her. "Don't touch me!" Her scream echoed throughout the walls of the canyon as she pressed herself further against the earth.

Placing his arms on either side of her, his palms stretched out upon the rocky wall, Sephiroth encased Aerith within a barrier of his own making. He made eye-contact with her. Though he immediately regretting the action, having to witness the suffering and masked hate beneath the beautiful, rich emerald, he didn't look away.

Slowly, he let his arms fall against the wall so that his forearms were parallel with the rocks and Aerith was almost against his chest. Her breathing was erratic, and he knew from the clouded look in her eyes that her vision was blurred.

"I said don't touch me!" Her venom sank deep, but Sephiroth was dedicated. Let her hate him. Let all of her pent up anger and frustration be drained, so that he might see her smile at least once more.

He leaned his head against the rock, just to the left of Aerith's head. He knew what was coming: it was inevitable.

Just as he had predicted, Aerith's small hand smacked at his chest. It was right in front of her face, and a prime target to hit, and Sephiroth would rather she strike him than take her frustration out upon herself. Her blows were weak and lacking in emotion, meant more as means to vent her frustration more than anything. They, however, seemed to work. Soon, Aerith sobbed. Her weeping shook her entire body, and her cries echoed. Sephiroth pressed himself harder against her, pinning her to the wall securely.

Blindly, she groped for a hold. Still she shook as she wound her arms around Sephiroth's torso, burying her face in his chest to muffle her tears.

After what seemed like several lifetimes filled completely with nothing but sadness, Sephiroth heard Aerith speak.

"I want to go home. Please take me home."

Sephiroth removed one hand from the wall and placed it on the back of Aerith's head, conveying the message that he heard and understood her. He knew immediately that she spoke of their home in Mideel.

He was able to feel the moment she went limp in his arms. Sephiroth scooped her up into his embrace without effort, and eased her into a comfortable position cradled against him. Aerith buried her face in his chest, unwilling to look up.

With a flick of his wrist, Sephiroth set flame to the paper that scattered the earth. Some secrets were never meant to be shared. He turned then, looking upon the quite fire-cat with sad eyes. Red's ears were still pressed against his head in fret, and Sephiroth was able to visibly detect the water on his cheeks. Red had been crying right along with Aerith.

Sephiroth strode past the cat and up the small, hilly trail that led back into the city. He quietly made his way back into the inn, Aerith letting out a few small hiccups along the way. Though she was limp in his arms, he knew that she was far from asleep. He placed her on the bed, uninterested to see if Red had followed them up or not, and pulled the boots from her feet. Tucking her into bed proved easy, as she let him maneuver her body as he pleased to better fit her under the heavy comforter.

He refused, however, to make eye contact. As soon as he was certain she was safe in bed, Sephiroth shut the door to their bedroom, turned off the lights, and locked himself in the bathroom.

Sitting with his back against the door, plunged into total darkness, he held his head in his hands as an excruciating tremor of self-hatred shook through him. The quite of the canyon only amplified the sounds in the room behind him, and he knew at once when Aerith had begun sobbing again. Sephiroth listened to her toss and turn, burying her face under her pillow to muffle the sound of her sorrow.

Sephiroth found himself to be completely and utterly terrified. Everything he had been hoping for, all of the affection he had been trying to win from the flower girl, had been rejected in one night, and she most likely had no idea. His broken heart shook him, but the idea that Aerith had been unhappy while in his company for so long shook him even more. Never had she spoken of it, never had she indicated such a strong sense of loathing for anything. When, he wondered, did her forgiveness turn to venom? Why had she continued to tell him that she forgave him, night after night, if she hadn't meant it?

He felt betrayed. No only betrayed, he felt weak, open, and frightened, like a child. Helpless, hopeless: for the first time in his life, Sephiroth was without a coherent thought. He had opened himself up, let himself experience new and frightful things and, just as it had when he was young, it had escorted him directly to disaster.

All of the emotions he had only just begun to understand barred down on him. Kindness and trust seemed foreign again.

What had happened?

Good God, what had he done?


	42. Distress

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 42: Distress

"For the third time, Sephiroth, yes, I am sure that you can take the buggy for your travels." Red paced back and fourth several times, shaking his mane in frustration. "No one in the city has bothered with it for over a year, and no one will miss it when it's gone. Take it to Costa del Sol and board a boat back to Mideel."

Sephiroth motioned for his notebook, but the fire-cat cut him off with a low growl. "I'm not asking you," he insisted. "I am telling you to take it. I don't want Aerith walking in her condition, and you know as well as I do that Cloud won't be able to catch up to you in the damned thing. Take it, and take Aerith home."

Scratching the back of his head in slight aggravation, Sephiroth let out a low sigh. He didn't meant to take the buggy, but with Red's insistence and his worry over Aerith's current state, he had little other choice than to accept help. He finally nodded, then made his way back into the bedroom.

Aerith, just as he had left her, lay curled up atop her bed. She occupied a deep, exhausted slumber that Sephiroth didn't blame her for escaping in: she had, after all, been up nearly the entire night in tears and unrest. He remembered when he had learned of his past from Valentine, when he had met his mother, and the emotional and physical toll everything had taken upon his body thereafter. Why, he himself had slept for the better part of two days. Who was he to hold it against the flower girl for being exhausted and emotionally drained after the truth she had discovered?

Making sure everything they owned was safely tucked into his backpack, Sephiroth shouldered the bag and steadied himself. Slowly, he made his way to Aerith's side, bending down to gaze upon her for just a moment. Her face was peaceful since she had found solace in sleep, and Sephiroth preferred it as such. He wished, were at all possible, to never witness her in the same state she had been in the night before.

Carefully, he eased her up from the bed, holding her tight against his chest. He made his way out of the inn and followed Red out of the canyon in the dead of night.

Sephiroth placed Aerith inside the car, reclining the passenger's seat and buckling her up in a comfortable position. He turned to Red before he closed the door.

Red looked up at him with pity evident in his gaze. "Here, take this for her." Twisting around, Red pulled a small bag from beside him and brought it toward Sephiroth. The general accepted it, and pulled from the bag a woolen, woven blanket. "It's a keepsake of mine, and I wish Aerith to take care of it."

Sephiroth nodded, reaching into the buggy and placing the blanket atop Aerith's sleeping form. She remained still.

He looked back to the feline who was obviously having difficulty in finding words to convey his feelings. "I expect you to keep it in good shape, as I'll visit you eventually. "

Sephiroth understood that in by trusting the blanket to Aerith's keep, the cat was trusting Aerith to Sephiroth. His voice said to keep the woolen thing safe, but his face told him to take care of that which was more precious. Sephiroth nodded toward what he supposed was a new friend.

He knelt down on his knees, making himself eye level with Red. Reaching out his hand, he stroked the cat's face and mane. It was, in its own sense, a handshake made in the sealing of a promise. Red understood this, and leaned toward the light touch.

Sephiroth stood.

"I mean it," Red warned. "No rips, no tears, no breaks: you take good care of it."

Sephiroth nodded, understanding again what silent words Red had conveyed: 'keep her safe, make her happy, and don't break her heart.'

But, the general mused as he retreated into the driver's seat of the car, she has already made up her mind; her heart was shattered for the time being. He would protect her while she mended the pieces, of course, but there was little else that he could do for her until they reached Mideel and her sorrows would fade like a distant, foggy memory.

Sephiroth didn't turn to watch Red's figure disappear out the rearview mirror. He kept his eyes forward and set with determined purpose. His concentration was focused completely on the road before him, and the path he would be forced to travel upon very shortly.

The long drive allowed Sephiroth time enough to think. The road was worn but flat enough to keep Aerith undisturbed in her slumber, and Sephiroth was thankful for that. She moved slightly several times, tossing one direction and turning another, clutching the blanket to herself like someone broken.

Sephiroth mused about how ironic their life paths had been, and how close and yet so far apart they were from one another.

Aerith had told him that his father had killed her own, though Sephiroth wasn't surprised. Hojo had many ways to hurt those around him, and the bastard took great pride in prolonging the suffering of those in his custody.

After all, Sephiroth had been no exception. He had aged while in Hojo's captivity, knowing not much of the world outside of him. His only solace had been training in Soldier, and the praise he received from it. The Hero of Wutai, he had been named. The media had gone somewhat ballistic when he returned from the surge on the foreign country, and the praise didn't go undeterred. Admiration was something his father had never admonished him with, and hearing congratulations from complete strangers had filled him with a slight sense of purpose where everything else had seemed to have failed.

Shin-Ra had made him general, had adored him as the prodigy he had been created to be, and because it had been all he had known, he had accepted it. Little praise was better than none, and Sephiroth had been slightly pleased to be in the spotlight for so long.

Aerith, he suspected, had done just the opposite during her lifetime. He recalled the stories she had shared with him during their travels and knew her to be a magic user, an idea of which Sephiroth had already easily assumed to be true before she enforced it as fact. She hadn't, after all, physically fought to protect the planet from him: she had merely prayed. She had hoped, and her hope proved to be mightier than any piece of forged steel could ever wish to be. She grew flowers in her church, she nurtured life: he struck down his enemies from where they stood, he stole life. Two better opposites could not be placed. Hell, Sephiroth suspected that they could put night and day to rest.

Still, he admitted silently to himself, he wanted her. Not just her smile, or her love, or her beauty, but all of her: he wanted to be all she thought of, all she would ever need.

And he hated himself for it.

It seemed that selfishness was something he could always be attributed with.

His darkness had been purged with light because of her kindness, but, as he reflected on it, he had little to offer her in return. His darkness, however, hadn't consumed him completely: he wasn't without merit - merely the absence of light, not completely engulfed in corruption - yet Aerith was the purity that he had needed so badly.

Without much notice, or rather much care, Sephiroth had traversed a good most of the continent within the span of the day. He had passed out of the canyon and around the desert, avoiding the Gold Saucer area completely, and was making good time toward the sunny port town of Costa del Sol. The plan circulating around his head wasn't cemented or, in fact, thought out much at all. He was hoping to buy passage on one of the cargo boats heading down to Mideel, or perhaps get lucky and buy tickets on some sort of tourist cruiser. How he was going to do it, what with their tiny coin purse and their lack of Gil, was another story. He hoped Aerith didn't abhor the idea of seeking passage on another fishing boat.

As if thinking of her has been some sort of cue for her to wake, Sephiroth glanced over and was greeted with a pair of deep green eyes staring intently up at him from under the blanket.

"Have I been asleep for long?" Her voice was timid and quiet, as if she feared something.

Glancing out the window, Sephiroth took in the sunset that lit up the sky with a crimson hue. He nodded once, the returned his eyes to the road.

"Are we going home?"

Sephiroth nodded again, knowing that she understood his lack of normal communication at the moment: his notebook may have taken residence in his pocket, but his hands were clamped tight around the steering wheel. Any questions he answered would have to be yes or no questions, answers he could give with a shake or a nod of his head.

"Will we be stopping soon? I'm hungry."

It was all she had to say to make his foot shift from the gas pedal to the break. Somehow he suspected she knew this, but he would never mention anything about it. It wasn't as though she was lying to him, after all. Sephiroth suspected even he would be hungry after sleeping for nearly an entire day.

He pulled the buggy off of the road and turned the key to stop the engine. Their meal wasn't fancy, as most of the foodstuffs they had been provided with from the canyon-city were home-grown from gardens, or had been freeze-dried and shipped to them, but food was food and Sephiroth was beginning to find that even he was beginning to gain an appetite. Pulling what they had from the trunk of the car, he shut the lid and brought the backpack to Aerith.

She opened the door weakly, her face solemn and somewhat ashen. Stress, Sephiroth recalled, did much to a person, and it was obvious Aerith had been struggling with her thoughts. Sephiroth reached out a hand for her, regardless of what had transpired the night before, offering to help her up if she so needed it. Aerith looked up at him, shaking her head and refusing his hand. "I need to stretch a little before I stand up. My legs are really stiff."

Sephiroth retracted his hand and made his way to the back of the car. Atop the lid of the trunk he placed several containers of food so that Aerith might pick what she saw fit to consume. It took her quite a few minutes to stretch out her body enough to feel confident in standing on and it slightly pained Sephiroth to see her struggle. Still, he had offered her his hand and she had refused, ever the willful one to try and do everything on her own.

They ate in a strained silence, the quite only broken by their chewing. The finished just as they began; in silence. They each worked to get the remaining food into the backpack with hushed, muted movements.

"I'm sorry."

Not expecting Aerith to speak, Sephiroth jumped slightly when she broke the stillness. He looked to her and noticed her dropped gaze. Growing curious, his hands stilled the task of putting food away as he turned completely to look upon her.

"Last night, when I was upset," her voice trailed off, her mind obviously struggling with speech. "I blamed you. It was wrong of me."

Sephiroth found it curious that someone as blunt as Aerith seemed to be having trouble forming cognitive thoughts to express herself with. She hid her feelings and opinions at times, but she was not one to usually hide her heart away.

"It's just really ironic that you and I ended up together like this, actual friends, when you look back at everything that's passed between us. Our parents knew one another. I can't help but wonder, now, what would have been different had you and I met when we were young."

She sighed. "That's not why I'm apologizing, though." Aerith flexed her hands, opening and closing them, her gaze somewhat empty. She wasn't really looking at her hands; she appeared to be searching for something within herself.

"I blamed you, and I shouldn't have. In truth, you've been more hurt by the actions of our parents than I have. You were tortured more than I ever was. You're the strongest man in the world, yet still you broke. That's how Jenova took hold of you; you were lost and hurt."

Sephiroth flinched, visibly.

Aerith shook her head, obviously noticing the nerve she had hit. "Some of the files in the book were about you, and your upbringing. They were observations made by my father. I knew about some of the things that you've gone through, but I never really understood them until they were there in front of me."

She bit her lip before continuing.

"I blamed you, and I was wrong. None of this was your fault; none of any of this has ever been your fault, even what happened in the Ancient Capital. When I cried last night after you had put me in bed, it was because I knew I had hurt you. I was so anxious to shove the blame on someone still here, someone still alive, someone to take my pain and feel guilty about it, that it was too late before I realized it was you. I've never hated you, and don't think I ever could."

Sephiroth could feel a pang in his chest, as if something were breaking. Everything was so torn in his mind; one minute, he thought she hated him, the next she was apologizing for what anger had made her say.

"I think, though, it would do us both good to go home for a little while. We'll see, then, what lies ahead for us. I just… I just need some time to think. I feel a little lost."

She finished packing their food without looking up at him and seated herself once again on the passenger's side of the buggy.

Sephiroth followed her lead soon after her, only taking a moment to place their backpack back into the trunk. He adjusted the front mirror in the car to give his hands something to do for a moment. The ignition flared up when he turned the key. He glued his hands to the steering wheel, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead.

The car filled with silence again, but this time Aerith was awake for it.

Sephiroth's mind was anything from restful.

He knew Aerith to an extent that he considered to be a deeper understanding than most, and he could tell when she was hiding something. Her apology had been heartfelt, of course, and she had meant every word of it, but something was hidden behind her eyes, behind her voice. Her face wore a blank expression, and her mind seemed to be far away.

Something was wrong.

Sephiroth cold feel it. His stomach turned.

She didn't blame him. He knew such to be truth, now. But something else bit at her, something else ate away at her and she was refusing to share her heart with him.

She was lost. Her heart was hurting, Sephiroth could tell. Her anguish ran deep, but there was little that Sephiroth could do for her until she sorted everything out herself.

He would wait.

Costal del Sol was reached before midnight, though only by a few hours. The ride had been enveloped in a fretful silence, and it had put the general slightly on edge.

The port was still active, luckily for them, with ships bobbing up and down in the tide. Sephiroth reluctantly relayed a message via his notebook to Aerith, explaining that it might be best for her to try and procure two tickets from one of the stands on the docks. His lack of voice, after all, would serve more of an annoyance than a benefit in such a circumstance.

She agreed without argument, and set off toward the docks, determined to go home. Sephiroth followed after her, close behind.

The tourist season to Mideel was only just beginning to pick up, and Aerith shared her amazement at being able to obtain passage so easily when the summer months loomed so closely on the horizon. Mideel, with its out of the way and stuck in the middle of nowhere location, was a popular tourist spot for the nature-freaks, or so they were informed by the young woman who had sold them their tickets. The boat they were meant to be boarding wouldn't be ready to sail until the morning hours, but Sephiroth was quickly falling into a slight sense of sluggishness, and was pleased to hear that, despite the boat not leaving port for a few hours, the ship's crew were gracious enough to allow the passengers to board the night before.

What Gil they had with them had been spent on the tickets, so there would be little to argue over upon the boat, much to Sephiroth's distaste. He wasn't one for materialistic goods, but he rightly enjoyed food. If the journey lasted more than a few days, the provisions from Cosmo Canyon they had acquired wouldn't stretch far enough to keep them satisfied until they reached their home. Still, there was little to be done other than hope the seas stayed calm. The room they had acquired, however, pleased Sephiroth, given the price they had paid. Two beds were set in the near middle of the room, and a decently-sized, clean bathroom adjacent.

Without so much as a backward glance, Aerith dumped her bag onto one of the beds and quickly made for the bathroom. Immediately, Sephiroth head the faucet of the bathtub begin to ring with the thunder of pouring water, and soon following the simple sound of the shower being turned on.

His body tired, and his mind run ragged, Sephiroth quickly set to changing his clothing before Aerith got out of the bathroom and promptly curled up under the covers of his bed. The shower ran in the background, though to Sephiroth it was simple white-noise: he was lost, deep in thought.

Not liking it in the least when Aerith hid her feelings from him, Sephiroth tried to conjure a reason for her strange behavior.

Truth, to be sure, was a hard thing to swallow, and Aerith learning of her past must have had no pleasant experience, Sephiroth mused. He recalled, vividly, the night Vincent had taken him to see the grave of his real mother, and the simple words the gunman spoke that nearly tore Sephiroth's world apart. Truth can change something, for better of for worse.

Sephiroth was beginning to think bitter thoughts. His mind circled around the idea of the need people have to lie, and how nothing good ever seemed to come of hiding the truth. False pretences and fake smiles were one thing if a person was not yet comfortable confiding with the truth with themselves, but secrets can scar and lies can destroy.

Even more indignantly did Sephiroth realize how much he detested the idea of lying, and thusly began to detest himself for it: he was, after all, hiding his heart and true feelings from Aerith. He couldn't blame her for the way she was falling further and further away from him. It wasn't as though he was being liberal with his distribution of inner thought, after all. It was painfully ironic, to be honest.

Still, the more Sephiroth let his mind tangle itself around the idea of telling Aerith how much he cared for her, the more terrified he became. If she rejected his love, he knew it would hurt, but what if she didn't want to be in his company thereafter? Rejection was one thing, but outright revolution? Sephiroth was unable to cope with the idea of no longer being the one she traveled with, the one she smiled at, the one she shared her meals with.

The sudden lack of flowing water alerted Sephiroth that Aerith's shower had finished. He heard her exit the bathroom a few minutes later.

He feigned sleep.

Though his eyes were closed, he was aware when she turned off the lights. He heard her slowly make her way across the cabin and into her own bed, groping blindly in the darkness for her bedding.

And, had he not been listening so intently in the first place, he would have never heard her nearly inaudible voice over the rush of the sea outside their window.

"Forgive me."

Sephiroth's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. She was truly hurting, and Sephiroth hadn't the slightest idea as to what he could do to ease her heart.

He remained motionless, paralyzed, unable to muster a single thought.


	43. Homecoming

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 43: Homecoming

Sephiroth was reluctant to fall asleep. He and Aerith had spent the last two and a half days on the small ferry, and the sea had been anything but kind to them. Much to his dismay, she had kept herself locked away from him. She would speak to him if the need arose, such as to inform him of the time of their next meal, or where she would be if he needed to find her, but she made it a daily task to leave as much space between them as possible.

He had, on several occasions, attempted to strike up familiar conversation with Aerith, hoping some of the cold ice she had set between them would melt. At times he reached her through what kindness he offered her, like when he pulled a chair out for her to sit in, and was rewarded with a lapse in judgment that resulted in a small smile. Still, Sephiroth was eager to take anything she offered.

Aching to reach out to her, to comfort her the way she so often had been able to comfort him, Sephiroth detested himself for allowing her to keep such distance between them. The words she had muttered into the cold, silent night air only moons before still rang out in his head. Still she ached, and yet he could find nothing in his power to comfort her with.

He wished he could take her in his arms and simply hold her, allow her to vent her frustration by means of tears and shouts, the way she had done in the depths of Cosmo Canyon. She was stressed, he could tell merely by looking upon her, and knew she was holding herself together if only as a front for him, as if to keep him out.

It wasn't the actual act of holding her and allowing her aggravation and sadness to be released that had him terrified to touch her.

Rather, it was the notion that she would somehow react violently.

Now, it wasn't as though Sephiroth feared Aerith would hurt him in any physical manner. She was gentle in her nature, even when pushed to her limits. It was, however, the fear that she would further retreat into herself were he to bring her close that kept his mind riddled with guilt.

She avoided him like a disease: it wasn't his place to merely scoop her up and force her close to him, no matter how much Sephiroth wished he could ease her pain.

And while Sephiroth had been reluctant to fall asleep on the third night of their seaward journey, his lack of enthusiasm fell less upon the side of waking up with Aerith having left before him again, but rather toward fact that the boat was tossing and turning so violently that he was sure he was going to lose the cake he had so thoroughly enjoyed three hours prior.

Aerith was always on his mind.

Offering his semi-digested cake as tribute to the porcelain God, was, however, the current problematic circumstance his mind was driven into concentrating priority upon.

It was by great miracle, Sephiroth noted, that he was able to fall asleep. His body was not used to nausea.

It was not, however, a pleasant situation to be woken, quite abruptly it was to be added, by Aerith's sharp intake of breath.

He shot out of bed instantaneously, tearing his legs free of the sheets and hastily maneuvering to his feet. His eyes feel to Aerith, who sat completely still with her hands over her gaping mouth.

Sephiroth could see her eyes begin to tear.

He cursed bitterly to himself. What, in Shiva's frozen brassiere, was wrong?

Slowly, as if afraid were she move to fast everything would vanish, Aerith turned. Her eyes, round and wide with a mixture of what could be read as shock and absolute awe, turned to him.

"I hear it."

Sephiroth knitted his brow together in bewilderment. What, on the face of the planet, what she talking about?

His expression seemed, however, to convey exactly what was on his mind, for Aerith, after a large intake of air, spoke again. "The planet" I can hear the planet again."

Able only to blink, Sephiroth looked to Aerith with amazement apparent in his expression. His feet felt as though they had been frozen to the floorboards, and the air felt thick and suffocating.

As he watched her slowly relax her body from the shock, Sephiroth noticed she was shaking. Her eyes, glazed and empty, bore a hole through the wall in which she was concentrating so desperately on.

Worried for her safety, Sephiroth made a move for her, hoping to snap her out of her daze.

Aerith jumped when Sephiroth laid his hand on her shoulder. Still she shook, but it was obvious she was slowly gaining control over her body once more. Sephiroth watched her as she placed an open palm to her forehead, wrinkling her face up in a disgruntled manner.

"It's too much: everything is trying to talk to me at once. I can't make out what anyone is saying. It just sounds like there's a yelling competition in my head, and there's an echo."

She shook her head, as if it would relieve the tension in her skull. Looking up at him, she blinked a few times, obviously not sure what to do. "Will you get me a glass of water?" Her voice was low, as if it strained her to talk.

Sephiroth grew worried, though he heeded her request all the same. Returning from the bathroom, glass in hand, he handed the water to Aerith and watched, patiently, while she drank. She finished slowly, her eyes closed the entire time, and placed the empty glass on the bedside table.

Her hands were still shaking. Sephiroth waited for her to look up at him. Eventually, her eyes opened, though Sephiroth was slightly perturbed that she didn't meet his gaze. She blinked again, as if it cleared her head, though she never averted her empty gaze from the wall. "Everything is yelling. I can't make out any words, or even feelings."

Twisting his head to the side slightly, Sephiroth pondered what she had meant with her statement. Perhaps, he deliberated, it wasn't just words that were conveyed through the lifestream to her, but rather emotions aw well. It made sense, or so he thought. Emotions could have just as much of an impact on someone, the way they think or act, as words may, and considering the voices were all in Aerith's head, showing emotions to her instead of spoken words may have been easier. Perhaps it allowed her to understand certain things on a larger scale.

Sephiroth thought of how twisted irony could be. Emotions were easy to express, even without words, but given he had no voice, he had found communication difficult. He wasn't used to sharing, let alone exploring, his emotions, and without a voice had often been rendered, in certain circumstances, without control.

Aerith's sigh snapped him out of his thoughts on irony. His attention immediately went back to her.

He watched as she slowly laid back down, the crook of her arm going up to cover her eyes from the faint light that snuck through the holes in the window coverings. "I am going to try to go back to sleep, or something. I don't think I'll be able to walk like this. The whole world is spinning. Can you ask one of the crew when we're meant to land? All of this tossing and turning isn't making me feel any better."

Without hesitation, Sephiroth stood and left the cabin. He was eager to remove himself from the boat, and was pleased when, upon arriving on deck, to see a harbor not far off the port bow. Smiling, he quickly returned to the cabin and reported his findings to Aerith.

'It shouldn't be longer than a few hours before we dock in Mideel.'

Aerith smiled weakly, handing his notebook back to him. "Will you get me another glass of water?"

Glad to have something to occupy his mind, Sephiroth returned from the bathroom with another glassful of water. He was slightly troubled when he was forced to help Aerith sit up enough to drink. Even in the dim room, Sephiroth could tell her face was pale. Her eyes were lined with dark rings. He was pleased, at least, to noticed that her shaking had stopped.

Tentatively, he placed his open palm to her forehead. Her cool skin gave no indication of fever. Her breathing, he noticed, was normal, though slightly slower. Sephiroth hoped he could attribute that to her relaxed state.

It was apparent, after several moments of comfortable silence, that Aerith had fallen back to sleep. Sephiroth was pleased that Aerith's face had a calm expression to it, obviously indicating that her head wasn't filled with yelling while in the escape of her dreams.

Giving himself something to do, Sephiroth removed most of his belongings from his backpack. Sorting through his items, he arranged them back into his backpack, making sure all of his potions were properly placed on top of his folded clothing so they would be easy to access, as well as be less prone to shatter. He remembered, with slight amusement, when he had first paid little attention to what he placed into his pack, and where, when he had been younger. It had been one of his first Soldier outings, and though he didn't want to bring anything with him, Shinra deemed it necessary for all of Soldier to bring at least a small first aid kid, and a clean pair of socks and underwear. Simply wanting to be done with the mission and be rid of the tiresome backpack, Sephiroth hadn't paid much attention to where he stored his potions. In the end, when the helicopter sent to retrieve his squadron had been late, he was left wearing the same pair of undergarments. It was a lesson he didn't need to be taught again.

Shuffling his feet around, trying to make himself comfortable, Sephiroth sighed as he peered around the dark room. He looked to Aerith, as something to do, and was mildly surprised when he noticed she was looking up at him. He hadn't detected when she had woken, and was slightly stunned to see her eyes open and gazing so intently up at him.

Placing a finger to his temple, Sephiroth tapped his head several times, indicating he wished to know of Aerith's headache.

She shrugged and removed her gaze from him, staring instead at the ceiling. "I feel a lot better, actually. My head doesn't hurt, but there's still a bunch of noise echoing inside."

Sephiroth nodded, understanding. She was confused and slightly distraught: he didn't expect her to be right as rain after only a few hours of rest.

The ship suddenly jerked somewhat violently, and Sephiroth found himself having to place his open palms on his bed for support. Aerith closed her eyes, as if the movement had brought on a wave of nausea. When she, however, opened her eyes and slowly sat up, Sephiroth could tell she was already beginning to recover from her previous sickness.

He was glad. It was difficult to see her like that.

The port outside was bustling with life, just as it had been those months ago when the two had left. Aerith walked slowly down the stationary set of steps that connected the boat to the dock, using the guard-railing for support. Her legs, Sephiroth observed, had a slight wobble to them, and he knew without much deliberation that she had, in only a few days, gained her sea-legs and loss the use of them on solid ground.

It was a curious sensation, though it affected him less, and Sephiroth found it strange that he had never before noticed it. Having been on a boat that was tossed and turned upon the waves of the sea, Sephiroth had found his legs had grown used to the constant up and down sensation the boat made his body endure. On solid earth, however, his knees felt like a soggy deck of playing cards, though he knew it was unlikely they would fold like such. He may have temporarily lost his lands legs, but he would soon enough gain them back. He had, after all, no wish what so ever to board another boat.

His stomach was still furious with him, though it had already proven its inability to release its angry, churning contents upon the floor, so he was merely forced to ignore it. He forced himself to concentrate on the ground, forcing his eyes downward in an attempt to keep the world from falling to a dizzying array of kaleidoscope proportions.

It didn't take long, of which he was glad, for his nausea to slowly fade. Though his stomach still occasionally protested, Sephiroth found it had become easier to walk and observe something other than the dirt by the time he and Aerith had reached the innermost parts of the town.

The baker Sephiroth remembered from long weeks past was on the corner, handing out samples to prospecting customers. The general watched his eyes brighten as he looked toward them.

"Is that you, Aerith?" The baker's voice was deep and awestruck, though his smile was mischievous.

Aerith smiled in return, her nausea obviously having faded. "Of course it's me!" Her laughter was light, which starkly contrasted the way she had been acting for the past few days.

The baker shook his head. "Half the town was in such a fit when they heard you had just left, up and gone, with no word to anyone. What, on this green planet, could make you run so fast that you couldn't say goodbye, at least to me?"

Aerith's smile was still bright, though her eyes were beginning to dim. She shifted from one foot to the other before she gave her answer. "My mom got sick, up in Kalm, and I had to leave right away. I was scared she wouldn't make it."

The baker, having bought Aerith's lie, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that, and I didn't mean to pry."

Shrugging, Aerith remained smiling. "She's fine, now. It worked out pretty well, though, because I hadn't been home in a while. We decided to stay there for a bit, that's all. I wanted to make sure she'd be okay if I were to leave again."

Sephiroth swallowed uncomfortably. Aerith hadn't spoken to the townspeople about her previous life before, and as far as he knew, no one in the town knew where he or Aerith had come from. All that anyone understood was that they had needed help one day, when he had stumbled upon the city, he and Aerith bleeding from the gaping wounds in their chest. No one had asked, no one had pressed, and it didn't seem that anyone cared in the slightest. Sephiroth grew worried that they would poke and prod more. Things, from this point, could only grow more complicated. Lies could become difficult.

He cursed himself for not having fabricated a cover-story earlier. They could just as easily have told everyone that they had decided, in the middle of the night, to go on a vacation or something.

As far as anyone in the town was concerned, he and Aerith already seemed like a couple based off the fact that they lived together, and a romantic getaway as an excuse as to why they left would fit their ambiguousness perfectly. They had, after all, stumbled into the city without indication: wouldn't it make sense for them to sneak out in such a way as well?

"I know we haven't said proper hellos yet, but I was wondering if you knew where Doctor Rej might be. We brought him something as payment for letting us use his cabin before."

Smiling, the baker pointed next door. "He just left here, actually, and I bet you can catch him in the pharmacy. Be sure to come about when you have some free time. My wife made up some more recipe cards for you, and little Denna misses you."

Aerith, again, smiled. "I'll be by as soon as I can. Thank you!"

Sephiroth threw Aerith a rather questioning look as they turned from the baker and his samples and started toward the pharmacy. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what 'gift' she was talking about for the doctor.

She didn't make eye contact, but let a small, sly smile befall her lips. "When we were staying with in Nibelheim, and you were locked up in your room, Vincent took me into the basement and let me take a peek at the library. There were a few books Shinra had in glass cases, medical journals, instructional books, and what have you, that I thought would be put to better use to Rej than in any old, dusty display. So, I took them."

Sephiroth smiled, bemused. Leave it to Aerith to find the oddest things useful. True, however, the books she had hawked might prove to be useful still: Shinra was stingy about who got their hands on what their medical and scientific associations published, and there would be little chance the doctor would have anything close to what Aerith would present him with. Perhaps she thought to use it not only as payment for their previous stay at the cabin, but for future uses as well.

Sephiroth was jarred from his thoughts as they rounded a corner of one of the aisles and nearly collided with the good doctor.

Rej, in disbelief, started up at Sephiroth with wide, astonished eyes. His face turned almost ashen, as if he were looking through a ghost.

Aerith cheerily took Rej's hands in hers, drawing the physicians' attention toward her. "It's so good to see you again!" Her smile was real, her voice echoing with happiness.

Rej drew Aerith in for a hug, placing a hand on the back of her head. "I'm so glad you are alright, Aerith." His voice was low, as if he had truly suspected something terrible had happened to the two of them.

"I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

Nodding, Rej let go of Aerith and once again let her hold his hands within his.

Sephiroth sighed, knowing that he would be of little help in conversation, and began to wander the aisles of the pharmacy. He glanced over bottles that promised their contents would strengthen one's bones, and others that claimed their pills were the best to lose weight with.

He grew anxious. Ideas had been spilling through his head all day, and as nightfall drew closer with every minute, so did his guilt grow. His heart, though lightened at seeing Aerith smile at the prospect of being home, was still cold and hard. He dreaded doing what he was thinking of, but there were few options left to him.

It would be a hard decision to make, and his mind and conscious struggled with it. Perhaps it was the reason, instead of the boat, that his stomach was doing aching so insistently.

He couldn't come to terms with himself for even thinking of such a thing, but he was left with few other options… Perhaps a solution would reveal itself by nightfall and he wouldn't have to-

"Seph?" Aerith turned down the aisle, cocking her head to the side when she saw him browsing. "I've talked to Rej, and showed him the books. He said they would be more than payment for the cabin, and told me that we're free to use it any time we want."

So, then, she had intended to bribe the doctor with her books. She was, he admired silently, quite intelligent, if not cunning. Sephiroth nodded, and they began toward the door.

Her steps faltered, and she paused for a moment, lost in thought. "He seemed like he was in a big rush when he left, though." She looked up at him, unsure. "Was it just me, or was he acting strange?"

Sephiroth thought on it a moment. True, the doctor's face had all but fallen off and rid itself of all pigmentation when he had laid eyes on Sephiroth. Perhaps it was merely the shock of seeing the two of them again. He nodded.

Aerith bit her lip, and then began for the door. She sighed, then shrugged, and walked into the streets.

The rest of the day Sephiroth was able to free his mind of most of his worries; he and Aerith had ventured off the wooden trail they had come so accustomed to before they had left and found, just as they had left it, the cabin.

The flowers Aerith had planted before they left were all in bloom, and a sea of rosy and earthen hues sprawled out before them. Sephiroth watched Aerith smile as they neared the cabin, sweeping her gaze from one end of the yard to the other. It was truly a beautiful sight, and even the general found himself stopping for a brief moment in order to get a good look at the flowers.

When they had entered the cabin, it was obvious there would be work to do before either of them could actually rest. Sephiroth took to dusting the stationary objects, moving tables and chairs, while Aerith busied herself with airing out their bedding and cleaning the dusty kitchen.

It was well into the night before either was satisfied with their work, but at long last it was done and they had little else to worry over. Their meal, much like they had shared within the past few days, was eaten in silence, and consisted of what leftovers they had remaining in their backpack from their journey. Sephiroth was pleased that the small food supply had lasted for so long, for he had occasionally, throughout the day, watched as Aerith removed several bags of garbage from the fridge and the cupboards.

The entire house smelled of lemon-scented floor cleaner, but there was little work that would be left for them to do the next day: if he lasted so long.

It was with a heavy heart that Sephiroth made a weighty decision, something that had been on his mind for days.

He would leave her.

A bolt in the night would be the only way to flee without her notice, as much as it pained him thinking of how he'd never be able to give her a proper goodbye, but he had weighed every other decision he had available to him and knew that leaving was the only thing left to do.

Though he loved her, and wished only to make her happy, a life on the run away from her friends would only cause her sorrow until her dying day. Facing Cloud was something he would never be able to do, because Sephiroth knew that he would never be forgiven. He had killed Aerith, yes, but he had ruined Cloud's entire life: the burning of his city, the murder of his parents, of Tifa's parents, of the townspeople, of Aerith, of Zax…

He wouldn't be responsible for placing Aerith in the face of danger like that. Even if he faced Cloud, what was there to do? Cloud was sure to kill him, and in turn her.

He had seen it when they had stayed with Yuffie and Vincent, and even Red; there were other things for her to live for, and other things to make her happy.

And, with a sad heart, Sephiroth realized that nothing he could offer her would appease her the way Cloud had.

Even if, by some off-chance, she didn't love Cloud, they were still friends and she would be torn between the two of them. He would never be able to face himself, knowing he had forced her to choose.

Cloud was pig-headed – he always had been – and he knew that they would never get along.

Being away from Aerith would be painful, but being around her while her heart ached and her judgment was torn would be too much.

She would forget him. Even if she didn't, and came to hate him, Sephiroth resolved he would come to terms with it. He, however, didn't have it in his heart to keep her on the run for the rest of her life, and he knew that he would never be welcomed with any of her friends, save the few he had the good graces of meeting.

Vincent, Yuffie, and Red had held little against Sephiroth, after Aerith explained the situation, but he, personally, had little to do with any of their pasts. Vincent had been involved with his mother, but there was little other connection there.

Sephiroth heaved a heavy sigh as he followed Aerith up the familiar set of stairs and toward their bedrooms.

She looked behind her as she neared the top. "Tired?"

He nodded in response.

She, truly, had no idea how exhausted he was, in body and in soul.

He prayed silently that whatever the future had in store for her, without him, it would be gentle. She had suffered so much, and deserved better than him.

She paused again when she neared her bedroom door, turning to face him. "Welcome home, I guess."

Again, he nodded. Though he was facing her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her intense gaze.

"Goodnight."

Once more, he nodded. This time, however, he met her eyes.

Dear Planet, he reminded himself, she was so beautiful.

When had he fallen so hard? How had she so easily turned him from a monster to a man?

He took in all of her with one last gaze.

How he hated himself for what he would do.

But it would be the only way to make her happy.

He sat on the edge of his bed for hours into the night, his heart pounding and his mind racing. His pen scribbled down the words he had been closely coveting inside of him for months, and as the letters sprawled fourth from the tip of the pen as he frantically tried to push his heart into what he wrote, he fought back tears.

How unkind, it seemed, that he had been given a second chance at life, yet what he truly wanted and needed was only Aerith's embrace.

He placed his journal, the one he had bee keeping since hardly a week after they had been resurrected, atop the pillow on his bed. With a shaking sigh, Sephiroth clicked off the light in his bedroom and quietly made his way down the stairs.

Slowly, he looked around the bottom floor, thinking of the time he had spent in the cabin.

Sudden movement from the floorboards above his head caused him to freeze. Light footsteps sounded down the upstairs hallway. Sephiroth heard the bathroom door close, then, several moments later, the water in the pipes of the bathroom begin quite the cacophony as it cascaded down the walls behind the kitchen.

Another set of footsteps could be heard. Slowly, they padded down the hall. Another door opened. Sephiroth found himself letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he heard bedsprings groan under weight above him.

He waited.

The house went still again.

Unable to bring himself to leave just yet, Sephiroth ran his fingers over the familiar things around the bottom floor of the house, committing everything to memory. The time he had spent in the house, though short, had been what began to change him in the first place.

Aerith had, with her kind words, changed him into a human.

Where he would go, he didn't much care. Perhaps he would go visit those he had met on their travels. The children at the chocobo farm would be happy to see him, he was sure, and Sephiroth vaguely wondered if he would ever be able to meet up with Zahi and his sister again. He hoped they were well.

It didn't matter.

Slowly, with guilt and heartbreak weighing down his body, he made for the door.

The slamming of a bedroom door and the thundering sound of footsteps caused his heart to stop and his pace to falter. An enormous thump sounded, and, without being able to help himself, Sephiroth turned around.

Aerith was sprawled upon the floor, her hair loose and frazzled. Her swollen eyes were evidence enough of her tears, despite the fact that some still clung to the side of her face.

Sephiroth tried to shut everything out as he looked at her where she had fallen down the last few steps. She held up a shaking hand. The ring he had bought her was resting on the chain it had come with, entwined in her fingers. Her breath came in shallow gasps, as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

He looked down.

Opened to the last page he had written was his journal, resting on the hardwood floor.

Sephiroth swallowed, panic taking over his body.

He took a step backwards, placing a shaking hand to the doorknob behind him.

In an instant, she was to her feet. He hardly had time to blink before her arms were around his neck. Her steel-like grip crushed her to him without mercy as she let out a shriek into his shoulder, burying her face from the world.

He stood, dumbfounded, and let his arms go slack at his sides.

"Don't leave me! Please don't leave! I had no idea! Please, don't go!"

Her entire body shook against him.

"I need you! Please don't leave!"

The world around him spun.

His mind was empty.

"I love you!"

The world hit him like a ton of bricks to the side of his face.


	44. Diary

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Author's Note: This chapter is meant to be the diary that Sephiroth has kept for most of the story. I make several mentions of it, mostly in the later chapters, but it originates from one of the early chapters whereupon Sephiroth is disappointed to find an interesting-looking book completely blank. Simply felt I should clear everything up, just in case.

Chapter 44: Diary

January 23rd

I think, perhaps, I should start from beginning. I fear, however, that would be much too time consuming, so instead, to leave the past buried as it should be, I will only begin where it is necessary. Nowhere in this book shall I insert my name, for if someone from my past were to find it they would not, I am positive, believe whom it was writing. First thing, however, is first.

I am a walking impossibility, yet I lack a voice in which to tell my story with.

But because of the kindness and the selflessness of a certain flower girl clad in pink, I have returned. A promise was made, and I am never to return to the man I once was, or so shall I be smitten from this earth once more (though not at the end of the Buster sword this time).

It is, conversely, my wish to remain alive, so I shall keep my promise.

Upon my lap has been thrust both a burden and a gift. I am to protect the flower girl whom gave up her birthright of paradise to save me from the fiery pits of hell. It was not a wish, or a demand, or even a suggestion; I am protecting her, whether she knows it or not, because she is the only thing on the face of the earth to show me compassion. There is, of course, the underlying fact that if she dies, so do I, but that doesn't make me selfish. At least, I don't think it does. She keeps me company, and eases my wariness of the world, and so in her company I shall stay. She seems to enjoy my companionship, or at least I suspect so. There is no telling with this one.

Unfamiliar as these emotions are to a man like me, I cannot help but wonder what is to come of this peaceful life we have shared these past few weeks. Under the care and practical order of the kind doctor that save both of our lives, we were lent a cabin to stay in. The villagers here seem not to know who I am, and they have all taken a fond liking to the flower girl. It somehow makes me feel more at ease to know that she is happy with me in her company, despite the sins I have committed.

Every night before bed, she tells me that she forgives me, but these words have never been spoken to me before, and every night I am unable to react to what she says. One cannot begin to fathom how confused I am.

She should hate me, but she smiles at me like I've done nothing wrong.

Cake is another matter in which I do wish to speak of, though I fear letting my weakness for the sugary treat escape. The flower girl makes the best cake I have tasted thus far, but considering I've only had hers, as well as some from the bakery, I do not know how long that statement will remain truthful.

She has me, much to my own dismay as well as delight, doing chores to keep me busy. Between the walk we have in the morning through the forest together, and the regimented chores we each perform in the afternoon, I am, in the very least, content. Idle hands are the devil's workshop, or so I heard the florist in town say. I know much of the subject of the devil, though my devil isn't a pitch-fork-carrying red demon, but rather a monstrous conscious weighed down with the sins of a thousand men but with one sword. But I don't much like the florist, either; the way he looks at the flower girl makes me very uncomfortable, though I am unable to completely rationalize my thoughts as to why. I think, perhaps, it is because he only looks to her face when she is looking at him. The moment her eyes are turned, his eyes wander her body. I'd state the obvious fact, that humans are disgusting, but I now am one of them and mustn't generalize the population based on the actions of one man. After all, the flower girl is only half Cetra. I believe her human side is, perhaps, her kind side. The Cetra half of her is full of fire and the will to keep going.

Or at least that's what I think. I've never before stopped to think about things like this, so those reading this, if I ever deem this permissible for the eyes of others, I ask your forgiveness. Everything has been new for me lately.

I don't know what to do, so for now I shall simply remain in her company.

February 7th

She makes my insides stir with something I cannot name any more than I want to. I know not whether the feelings inside are good or bad, thus I refuse to act on them. Knowing not what to do is not a feeling I enjoy.

Today was her birthday.

I have never purchased a gift for someone. I attempted to make it practical, and she seemed to enjoy it when I presented the green hair ribbon to her for she wrapped her arms around me (only after scolding me for making her think I had abandoned her) and thanked me, then proceeded to tell me what she does every night: that she forgave me.

Forgiveness is a concept I still do not understand. I have a feeling, however, that the more I spend in her company the more I will learn. Much to my own dismay, there is far more to life than I ever thought possible. If I were to state the obvious, that life is complicated, it would be a vast understatement, though I am sure those reading this have already figured that much out.

March 15th

I saw him today in the market, the one who stole my life. It was only fair that he did what he did to me before; I, after all, practically ruined his life. Shinra dealt a major hand in that as well, but I cannot push all the blame onto them. When I saw him, I believe I felt panic (I've never know what it is to feel complete panic before, so I am only remotely certain that is what I felt). I picked up the flower girl, threw her over my shoulder, and ran to the cottage as fast as I could.

She seemed elated over the prospect of seeing her old companion again, but I, on the other hand, was anything but. So, in an act that seemed very out of character for her, she forced me upstairs and into hiding.

That boy may have saved the earth from me, but he is as thick as ever. We were all in the same room, and had he bothered to scout everywhere, like I had trained him in Soldier, he would have seen the flower girl and I huddled up behind the door. I am, however, grateful he neglected his training. Go figure- a short attention span is the reason I am alive.

We left the house, thereafter, the flower girl clutching my hand and leading the way through the woods.

I seemed to have broken my ankle when we were running through the woods. My memory is hazy, and all I remember is fear and pain, so I am not sure of its certainty. The girl, knowing half of those on the docks, struck some deal and got us onto a boat that is taking us far from what I had begun to call home. She healed me up, right as rain as the ship men tell me, and would hardly leave my side.

What a silly thing to do. Who would care enough to worry over me? I've survived much worse than broken bones, that much I know. Does she?

As it turns, our home was in Mideel, which explains the warm weather in the middle of February (you know, I hadn't thought of any of that until the flower girl pointed it out to me). We are now on our way to the coast of Midgar. It will be cold, no doubt, in the north. I am not looking forward to it.

March 16th

I hate boats.

March 18th

I still hate boats, and am glad we are off that god-forsaken rusty tub of scrap.

We walked from the coast to Midgar and were lucky enough to arrive in the junk-heap some people call a city before nightfall. It's rather cold, compared to Mideel. I haven't told the flower girl of my unease of the place- many Shinra employees wander the streets, and what would happen if one were to recognize me? Though the flower girl's heart and intentions are pure, I don't think she thought this over very well.

It seems I have fallen in line behind a woman, without knowing it. She was the one who decided to run away from the once-hero, simply for my sake. No plan of action (of that I am sure), she merely took my hand, what little we could afford to carry with us, and ran to the docks. I dread thinking of what would happen had we not been able to catch a ride off of the island.

Trudging through the grasslands, she talked to me about her past and what she remembered about living in Midgar. It is incomprehensible to me that such a gentle, pure thing grew up surrounded by hatred, greed, and filth. They say that you cannot grow flowers in Midgar, but it seems they know not of what they speak, for I have met one.

She knew a comrade of mine, the closest thing to a friend I ever had (aside from her, of course). She dated him, but she won't say much else about the time they spent together. I am unsure as of the reason, but it slightly agitates me. It is, however, none of my business, and thus I pushed it none what-so-ever.

I met two small children, friends of the flower girl before she had left town years ago, when we wandered into a shabby old church the flower girl informed me she liked to spend her time at. The oldest looked sickly, as most children in the slums do, but the youngest was plump, rosy-cheeked even, and too curious for her own good. As mute as I, the girl took my hand (you wouldn't believe how small it felt within mine) and forced upon my head a ring made of flowers.

I felt like the silliest thing to grace the planet when she planted a little kiss on my cheek, yet I wouldn't trade such a feeling for my life.

It is indeed frightening what children can make us feel.

March 25th

I have never felt a more profound mix of emotions as I had last night. Apparently, much to my own great surprise, the flower girl could hear the planet back when we were in Mideel. Now, however, she is unable to -to which I have a theory, but I haven't shared with her- the lifestream had broken through the planet years before, when Weapon attacked, and while Mideel had been rebuilt since that time, traces of the lifestream were still abundant everywhere, giving her a strong connection with the planet- or at least that is what I think.

I kissed her- not as a lover would, but as the child kissed me a few days before- upon her forehead as she wept last night over the loss of her 'friend.'

It was, for lack of a better term, awkward in almost all sense. Confusion assaulted me as she wrapped her tiny arms around me and cried, but there was nothing more I could do that could comfort her until she feel asleep in my arms.

I am at a loss.

April 3rd

We left Midgar this morning and headed for Kalm, which was celebrating the change of the seasons and the destruction of meteor. I acted as a child would, am completely ashamed of myself, and found out that I would much rather watch the reflections of fireworks in the flower girl's eyes than I would real ones.

I am surprised these new feelings in me haven't caused some sort of spontaneous combustion, for at times going down in a flashy ball of fire seems most appealing considering my given circumstances, though I'm not sure what would be done with my boots or my sword after I bit it for they are fire proof.

April 5th

We arrived at the small ranch located near the Mythril Mines. The thunder and lightning was so intense outside that the flower girl and I were forced into asking for lodgings in the chocobo barn. The two children who had been set in charge of the ranch while their guardian was away were, to say the least, friendly.

Chocobos wear shoes, apparently.

I helped the flower girl feed a cube of sugar to one of the birds, and I must say that I've never before noticed how soft her hands are. We talked, or at least communicated as much we could with me lacking a voice, of forgiveness, and she smiled at me as she always seems to do as of late. I find myself growing quite fond of it.

As always, I know not what to make of her.

April 6th

After cooking the children breakfast, we left the ranch and managed to catch a chocobo of our own. Upon crossing the swamp, we were attacked by the Zolom. I tired to direct my companion to the cave ahead of us. The flower girl, who had apparently not understood my directions, jumped off the bird soon after I did. It was, however, just as well for fighting in mud proved to be more difficult than I remember. If not for her quick thinking and strong magic, I would have more than likely lost my life due to the snake's puncture wound to my arm and the profuse amount of venom that quickly caused my body to go numb and my vision to blur.

She, on the other hand, overexerted herself. I was forced to carry her from the swamp to the alcove geographically known as the Mythril Mines. There, I built a small fire to warm her feverish body.

Though I was completely aware of what I was doing, I could not help but give into the urge to run my fingers through her hair while she lay unconscious. There is something there, something alluring and frightening all at once, that I cannot explain. How I wish I had the words to, for I feel that once the feelings are explained rationally I might be rid of them.

We were again forced to hide, however, as her old friend seems to be looking for us yet. Persistent bastard, I'll give him that, albeit a bit dim. I feel a large amount of pity for the poor woman that accompanies him, given the fact that she must put up with him on a constant basis.

Feeling pity now, am I? Great Shiva, next they will say I have gone soft.

In case I forget when I read this over again, that last line was sarcastic, or at least my best attempt at being so. Sarcasm is something I should try picking up, really. My attempt at sarcasm makes the flower girl smile- I rather like it when she smiles.

April 10th

Aerith was kidnapped in Junon. I'm at a loss for words, as well as rational thought, and have nothing of import to state as of yet.

April 11th

I am stuck in a cramped hotel room with a young boy whose sister was kidnapped in the same manner as my companion. We followed the kidnappers to Wutai, where I suspect a slave ring of some dishonorable repute is being held.

So help me Ifrit- if they lay but one hand on her…

April 11th (continued)

Kimonos are not comfortable to wear. I will never request the flower girl to don one. Ask not how I know this; it's too terrible for me to speak of as of now.

Also, I will never look at grapefruits the same way.

Ever.

April 13th

The flower girl is safe, as are the boy and his sister.

I must confess that there is something heavy weighing about my chest- I kissed the flower girl. I know not fully what came over me, but one kiss lead to another and another – and oh Shiva she is wonderful.

And yet, I feel as though I tainted her. Callous, war-stained hands such as mine should not touch something so precious and pure. I pulled back from the kisses she so willingly gave back to me as if they had burned. It felt as though something had flashed across my mind, some remnant of the faded hope of being happy; I am not accustomed to feeling as though I want something, but being unable to know what it is. Perhaps the thought of being happy is but a lost memory for me, and my sub-conscious tried to scare me from falling too deep so I would not be disappointed. After all, any and all of the happiness in my life has only been stolen away.

And yet, I want to reach out and hold her, but I am afraid to…

Safety is my first concern at this point in time, however, and I will be able to sort out my thoughts once we are out of town and safe.

It has been nearly a week since the flower girl last told me she forgave me. I worry.

April 17th

We managed to seek passage on a fishing boat heading to the outskirts of Rocket Town. We will be there by tomorrow or the next day.

My great dislike for boats continues.

April 18th

We made it safely to Rocket Town, but on out way out I was faced with someone I am not accustomed to; a rather upset flower girl. She yelled at me for the first time, and outwardly admitted that she wished to be selfish. Upon our entering Rocket Town, we stumbled upon the information that her pilot-friend had a new-born son.

Here I was, beginning to believe that she was more saintly than those they preach about under the steeples. She is human, as am I.

I think, perhaps, I understand her better now. I think, perhaps, her imperfections are why I seem to care so deeply for her.

But great Shiva almighty, what does one like me know of romance, or the way to a woman's heart?

April 20th

I asked her, with much deliberation beforehand it is to be added, what I meant to her. She, as she often manages, easily turned the question against me. I answered it as truthfully as I could manage.

She means more to me that she sees to know.

Admitting confusion, with a look of fret set across her face, she turned from me and told me that she still needed time to think. Perhaps it is better this way. I would rather she take time and be truthful to herself before she answers any question of mine, especially whose meaning could be taken a great many ways.

I am, as I have so often found myself as of late, a stranger to emotions. I suffered from a bit of an outburst.

My frustration wasn't caused by her words, but, rather, my inept ability to screw things up. I wish I had the courage to tell her how I feel. Even if, by chance, things were to stay the same, I should think that I would feel less the part of a coward for keeping such a deep feeling hidden inside of me.

Until I am able to confide in her the words I wish, I vow to, at the very least, stay by her side and protect her as best I can.

Her own behavior was caused by the want to see her friends again, a feeling I envy and do not blame her for.

I wish there was more I could do than silently vow to stay by her side. I'm the hero of a war for Ramuh's sake, and I can't even tell a woman my true feelings.

In the least, she has reassured me that if I were to leave her side, she would miss me. That is, for now, enough.

I rather think that I've gone soft.

May 8th

There is little I can write with my unsteady hand that would make much sense to any others than I.

I met two of the flower girl's friends, the little ninja girl and the ex-Turk.

Turns out the old Shin-Ra man used to know my mother. In fact, it appears he was very much in love with her.

Long story short, I met my mother two nights ago. Her grave was made of crystal.

I still am uncertain as to what I should feel now. My heart is overflowing with sorrow and anger alike, for she was never there for me when I needed her as most children might remember of their mothers, yet I am somehow filled with a slight sense of comfort knowing the truth of my past. It's not a dignified sense of comfort, let it be known, but more of a slight sense of heavy relief, as if something profound had been removed from its resting place on my chest.

My entire life I had been fed lie upon lie. The truth, quite honestly, hit me like a bucket of cold water, moving near the speed of sound. I was the outcome of a twisted experiment and of unrequited love, not of test-tubes and manually structured DNA.

She was beautiful. It's no wonder the Turk fell so hard for her.

It's a far cry from Jenova, which is something to gain from this I am to assume.

I wept for the first time I can ever recall. I wept for her, and for the past, and I suppose for me as well, two moons ago. Everything is still spinning fresh in my mind.

It still hurts. The truth hurts like hell.

May 13th

We threw a belated birthday part for the flower girl. I bought her a ring, set upon a chain, but I don't quite think she understands the depth of my gift. I know she isn't one for overly superfluous objects, but it felt to me that the ring was the right present to purchase for her. I suppose one could say that I followed my heart.

She wears it around her neck so beautifully. It's fitting, really. A ring has always meant to symbolize the never ending journey: life, if you will. How ironic that I buy her such a gift when our lives are so closely connected. I'm not talking of the life and death sort of circumstance we are in, with out lives being connected to one another by force, but rather of the fact that she and I have seemed to have formed something else: deep friendship, understanding, and trust.

Yet, I worry. Even if she were to know how I truly feel, would I have it in me to always keep her happy?

May 16th

Word hit us that the dim-wit was hot on our tail again, so we left the flower girl's friends and made our way out of town with the promise of returning for a visit sometime soon. I suppose the ninja wishes for another excuse to throw a party again, which I cannot blame her. The festivities from the night before were rather, well, exciting.

I've never been one to attend parties, other than those the old Shin-Ra president commanded I attend. Those parties, however, were full of stuffed shirt, pompous, ignorant old men and the women who flocked to their riches like moogles to Kupo nuts. I always hated parties where a tuxedo was standard dress. I suppose I merely abhor useless people.

The sun is setting now, while the flower girl and I prepare an early supper. We need to travel to Cosmo Canyon before it becomes too dark to travel.

The ex-Turk gave the flower girl a parcel before we left town. I have a terrible feeling regarding it, but I've tried to keep myself closed about the matter. The flower girl seems genuinely curious and excited about it, and I wish not to ruin her mood.

May 18th

I fear she hates me. I truly, deeply, am beginning to believe I've been fed more lies to pacify me. Forgiveness and compassion seem distant.

I feel so numb, as if my world is beginning to freeze.

Inside the package she was given was the truth of her past.

My father killed her father, and he ruined her life. She screamed at me, too, telling me how she thought it to be ironic how my father made her life a living hell, taking all those dear to her away, that it was only fitting when I killed her, as I was seeming to finish my father's work.

I held her, pinned her up against the canyon wall, and she screamed at me more. She beat her tiny fists against my chest and let her sorrow ring throughout the canyon walls. I took all I could, I let her cry on me, but now I feel so hated.

She cried all night and well into the morning. Her face is slightly swollen from her weeping, even in sleep. I fear she sleeps now only because of exhaustion.

She hates me, I can feel it. Her kindness: had it merely been an act? Had she forced herself to smile at me, time after time?

I feel so lost.

I feel so cold.

May 20th

The port town of Costa del Sol was reached before midnight, thanks to the flower girl's young yet wise friend in the fire cat. He lent us transportation, and it proved to allow us good time in making it clear across the continent. We've procured boat tickets, and are heading back to Mideel.

The flower girl claims she wants to head home in an effort to clear her mind and gather her thoughts.

I can't deny her such a wish, and so I'm stuck on a boat for the next three days. Her company was once welcomed, her warm smiles brightening the mood. I've always liked the way she would speak to me, even if I could never vocalize my responses, and would tell me the stories of her past.

Now, however, she merely stares blankly out the window. I doubt she knows I hear her crying at night; had I not been formerly trained to listen so closely and intently to the night, I would never even suspect her weeping. Still, she remains distant and I am at a loss as of what actions to take.

She talks to me still; she doesn't ignore me when I wish to acquire her attention. Her company, however, is unwelcome in the fact that it seems like she is straining herself to be around me. I wish not to make her uncomfortable, yet there is nothing else I find myself able to do in while in her presence other than let her to her own thoughts.

May 21st

I still hate boats. Hate. Hate! HATE!

May 24th

I've come to the hardest crossroad in my life, and have decided on the path that will break both of our hearts.

No more talking in codes: I speak my heart now.

Aerith, I can't be without you, and for that simple reason I am willing myself to leave your side. You'll never find happiness with me in your life. We'd forever be on the run, always fearing who we'd be spotted by. I can offer you nothing but eternity with Cloud at our heels.

You know, just as well as I do, that he would never understand. I can't put you in danger by remaining by your side.

He's managed to follow out heels this far: there is little doubt in my mind that he'll follow our trail back here and seek you out.

Hate me if you must, Aerith, but understand that I do this only for you. I could never, in a million years, willingly place you in harms way.

I ask that you don't try to find me after I am gone. Learn to forget, and simply move on with your life. I'm sure Cloud and the others miss you. What of your mother?

How strange it is that I was the one who stole your life in the first place, and now wish I could be the part to make you happy.

I wish only happiness for you.

Before, when you would tell me you forgave me just before we would fall to sleep, I was not sure I deserved it.

Now, I am certain I don't.

You've torn my world apart, and built me back up as a better person.

Aerith, I love you.

I truly, deeply love you with all of my heart and soul.


	45. Confession

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 45: Confession

Sephiroth fell against the door for support, Aerith pressed tightly against him. Her hands clung to him as if he was the only thing that could sustain her life. He could feel her body shake as she chanted the same words into his shoulder.

"Don't go! Please, don't leave me!"

Her voice was that of a whisper, hardly audible to even him though he stood against her.

Finally, Sephiroth forced himself to draw breath.

The blood in his veins rushed through his body, igniting his senses while everything bombarded them at once. The world spun, and he found himself grabbing Aerith's shoulders for support.

He held his breath, again, standing completely still, as he waited for her to say that single, mind-numbing phrase one more time.

"I love you."

Sephiroth could feel himself falling. Aerith's hands pressed against his shoulders as she attempted to push him upright. His feet stumbled beneath him, and he found that he was unable to properly direct them as to where to step next.

"Lean on me, and we'll go sit on the couch."

Numbly, he did as he was told and let his bodyweight shift so that Aerith could help support him. He followed her blindly to the sofa and sat, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands, elbows set firmly against his knees.

She clutched the upper portion of his arm, leaning tenderly against him. Her face was still buried against his shoulder, though she had stopped speaking since they had sat down.

Slowly, Sephiroth reached into his pocket and procured his notebook and pen. He laid the book down on the coffee table, and set his elbow against the wood in order to steady his hand, and began to write. Though his body still shook and his mind still raced, he forced himself to write coherently.

After he had finished writing, he tentatively pushed the notebook toward Aerith.

Her eyes were fixated on the message for several moments, and Sephiroth knew that she was reading it over again and again.

'This isn't that easy, Aerith. For us to be together, you'd never be happy. We would always run, we would always hide: I can't force you into a life like the one we've been leading for so long. You belong with your friends, with the ones you held dear before I stole you.'

Sephiroth watched her brow crease. She looked at him, rage given rise to a look of indignation and disbelief upon her face.

"And just who are you to tell me what makes me happy?"

Sephiroth forced air through his nose, signaling his indignation over the matter. His head was beginning to clear as reason tried to reprimand passion for taking over his senses so forcefully. He wrote another message and passed it to her.

'And just how happy have you been in my presence for the past week?'

Color sprang to her cheeks. "That's not fair. You don't know what I've been going through."

He tried to make his features go cold as he raised an eyebrow at her statement. Slowly, he inclined his head, urging her to go on.

Aerith turned away from him, as if ashamed of something. He watched as she bit her lip, contemplating what next would spill from her mouth.

Finally, she sighed.

"I thought you knew. I thought you knew that your father had killed mine. I thought you knew of all the things Hojo had done to my family and those I cared about, and that you weren't telling me. I thought that you were keeping it from me out of spite. I thought that was why Vincent gave me the book; that he didn't think you would ever tell me."

Still she refused to meet his eyes. She looked, instead, to her hands.

She sighed again as she began to wring her hands.

"I knew you had changed since we'd been traveling together. I didn't know how much you had changed until I read your diary. I know it doesn't make much sense, after all that we've been through together, but I thought you still hated me."

Again, Sephiroth found himself stunned and unable to move.

"I was beginning to believe you thought of me as just a nuisance. When I offered up my feelings, you would always take a step backwards, figuratively at least."

He heard her swallow, as if she were holding back more tears.

"In Wutai, when we…"

She placed a finger to her lips, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"When we kissed, you pulled away like I had burned you or something: like you realized what you were doing, and were disgusted with it. When we were in Nibelheim, and you held me the morning you had woken, after you had found out about your past, I didn't know what to think. And then the ring, and…"

Slowly, she looked up and met his gaze.

"I was so confused; I didn't know what to think. I didn't want to push something on you that you couldn't deal with. I guess that I was the one who couldn't handle everything in the end. I let my fear get the better of me, and I denied myself happiness. I was so afraid that you didn't want me..."

Oh, dear Shiva, how he had been waiting for such a moment. Yet, no matter how his body ached, and his heart screamed for him to take her up in his arms, he forced himself to remain still.

How ironic it was that he had been so afraid of rejection, when all along she had been throwing advances toward him in hopes of catching his interest. So determined was he to brace himself for her rejection that he had never really given thought to the opposing option, other than giving her a life on the run.

He reached again for his notebook, wishing to make one last confirmation before he let his heart speak truthfully.

'We can't stay on the run forever, Aerith. What of Cloud? What of everyone else? Aside from those we have met, the rest of your friends would sooner cut me down than hear a word of what I have to say. Cloud would never rest lest I am in pieces, and you know it.'

Again, she shot him a fiery look of indignation. "I don't care if we have to run or if we have to fight, Sephiroth. If a time comes that we have to meet up with Cloud, then we'll tell him the truth. We have Vincent and Yuffie, and Red too, on our side of this argument, and you know they would help us any way they could."

He reached for his notebook again, but Aerith stilled him. She brought his hands to rest against her leg.

"I don't give a damn if I have to fight tooth and nail to keep what we have. Don't you get it? You are the only one in the entire world who could ever understand me, understand who I am and what I've gone through, and not try to lock me away like I'm made of glass. You've suffered just as much as I have, Sephiroth, and no one else will ever know what we've gone through to be here. I thought, at first, that you were turning me away because you didn't like me. After reading your journal, I understand that you pushed only because you were afraid that you'd break me."

She closed her eyes, swallowing hard in an attempt to keep her tears at bay. One, however, slipped passed her defenses and ran down her cheek.

"All those times I told you that I forgave you: what did you think it was for? I forgive you for your past. I forgave who you were, and what you did. I wanted to show you that there was more to life than what our past tried to make of us. When we were on the boat, just a few days ago, and I asked for your forgiveness in the middle of the night, it was because I was terrified I had placed you into a situation you didn't want to be in. I was afraid that you only traveled with me because of the ties our lives share."

She raised a hand to wipe away another tear that had escaped. Her hands shook with the effort of keeping from crying.

"I love who you are, not what you are, or what you were. Just like I'm the light to you, you're my dark. You're the only one who can complete me. I've already forgiven you. You need to forgive yourself."

He was on top of her before he realized what he was doing. Pinning her against the soft cushion of the couch, he pressed his weight against his elbows so as not to crush her. Pressing his face against her shoulder, Sephiroth took a deep breath, and then let it out in a trembling sigh into Aerith's hair.

She laughed against him, obviously not expecting such a bold move. He found her arms circling around his neck, as if it were at all possible to pull them any closer together.

Taking another deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent that lingered yet on her skin since the shower hours before, Sephiroth pressed himself back against his elbows and dared to meet her eyes.

No rejection.

No sadness.

No guilt.

She loved him.

Sephiroth found his body shaking with silent laughter, of which he knew had spread from his heart to his eyes.

Aerith combed a hand through Sephiroth's bangs, returning the adoring smile.

He leaned down and kissed her.

Letting his heart swell as he kissed her again and again, he smiled against her lips when he felt her fingers weaving through his hair. He paused, letting her rest, but only for a moment; in a split second his lips claimed hers once again.

She moved beneath him and he found his breath catch when he felt how soft she was. Her skin glowed with the light from the moon that illuminated the living room, and it nearly took his breath away.

He moved his kisses from her lips to her face, to her ears, and slowly trailed them down her neck. She gasped when he nipped at her collarbone, and Sephiroth was pleased to feel the sound go through him, curling his toes with devious delight.

She was happy, she was content, and she loved him: that was all that mattered. The world could be falling apart around him, and yet, so long as she was smiling, he couldn't give less of a damn.

As a matter of fact, if he were to-

The doorbell rang.

Sephiroth cursed every and any deity that came to mind. He wanted Aerith to be happy. He didn't want to be interrupted.

Aerith's face turned into a pout when Sephiroth looked up, toward the door. "It's three in the morning. Who the heck is knocking on our door at three in the morning?"

Sephiroth, sighing heavily as he lost the warmth of Aerith's body beneath him, stood and made for the door. It was quite possible that he had never before been so annoyed before in his life.

He reached for the doorknob, and yanked open the door in a fit of rage.

He was promptly punched in the face.

Not expecting such an action to greet him when the door was opened, Sephiroth fell to the floor, sprawled out upon his backside, staring dumbly up at the ceiling.

He lifted his head and immediately knew what he was in for.

Cloud stood in the doorway, eyes aflame with anger and hurt, cocking his fist back for another swing.


	46. Confrontation

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 46: Confrontation

Sephiroth watched as Cloud, with a sour expression set across the blonde's face, drummed his fingers on the kitchen table. The general knew the boy to be perturbed by what he had been told and could guess the kinds of things that were churning inside of his head, yet at the moment, Sephiroth couldn't gather enough patience to care. The frozen bag of peas that he had been holding against the side of his face for what was nearing two hours was beginning to melt. Sephiroth didn't much like peas in the first place. His face was still sore from the good wallop Cloud had administered earlier and was in no mood to allow any emotion other than a completely look of calmness befall his face. It was taking much of his patience to simply sit there and allow Aerith to tell their story while Cloud butted in with his silly questions.

Sephiroth shifted in his seat, pulling the bag of peas from his face. Tenderly, he reached up and pressed the tops of his fingers to the area below his left eye. The spot was swollen, and was sure to be bruised, but Sephiroth was somewhat pleased when he realized that his face hadn't been cut. He was, however, somewhat shamed to know that he had let his guard down so completely.

Cloud's eyes shot toward him when Sephiroth again placed the peas to his face. Keeping his visage the epitome of calm, Sephiroth didn't even blink as he met Cloud's gaze.

"That's a lot to swallow, Aerith."

Only a short time before, when Sephiroth had opened the front door and been greeted in one of the most rude fashions imaginable, Aerith had thrown herself in front of Cloud before he could land another wild punch on Sephiroth's person. While it was a bit of a blow to his ego - having been caught off guard, pelted in the face, and sent sprawling upon the floor – Sephiroth was more than pleased when Aerith had nearly jumped atop him in order to stop Cloud's onslaught of physical punishment.

While Sephiroth wasn't completely sure what Aerith had said to Cloud in order for him to stop his pursuit and listen so intently, he was sure as Ifrit's hellfire happy she had said it. His mind had spun for a good, short while, the end of which he had found himself with a bag of frozen vegetables pressed against his face while Aerith began to yet again spin the story of how they came to be, once more, participants in the game of life.

The silence that stretched between them now that the story had been told was beginning to make Sephiroth more uncomfortable than he already was.

"I can't change what happened, Cloud. I had my reasons, despite them being good enough for you or not. I did what I did because I felt I had to. I could tell you that I'm sorry a thousand times over, but it still doesn't change anything, and you know it. I did what my heart told me to do, what I felt needed to be done."

"But to run from me, Aerith? And to run from the rest of us?"

"I was dead to you. Sephiroth was dead to you. I didn't think I had much choice."

"There's always room for you."

"That's not what this conversation is about, and you know it. I'm sorry you're upset with me for hiding from you, but try and understand what I was doing and what was going on. I was giving someone a second chance – a chance at a normal life - while leading my own new adventure. I missed everyone so much, but I knew that, to them, I was gone. What was I supposed to do? Come knocking on your door in the middle of the night and just smile when you opened it? This is bigger than you and I, bigger than the rest of us. This wasn't my decision. The planet saw it fit to bring the both of us back. Sephiroth and I were wronged in the worst possible ways, and so we were brought back to try to make it right."

"Aerith, I can't-"

"Cloud, just listen. I came back knowing that Sephiroth was coming with me. At first, I was afraid he might turn out to be just as crazy without the Jenova cells in him. But he's still a human being, and people change. We've been through so much. I trust him with my life. I know you'll never be able to forgive him, Cloud. I know everything seems crazy, and I'm sorry that I've inadvertently hurt you through all of this, but you have to understand I was trying to do what was right."

Cloud sighed and turned his head.

"Please, Cloud, try to understand. I gave him a chance when no one else would have given him so much as a second thought. Do you have any idea what we've been through to get where we are? I am the only thing he has, and he's the only thing that I need right now."

Slamming his fist on the table, Cloud glared at the man sitting opposite him. "It's not fair, and the both of you know it. Aerith, do you have any idea what he's done to me? He's single handedly ruined my life. He's a psychopath, a murderer, and here you sit next to him, defending him. You travel the world with him, Aerith, hiding him from me, in a silly attempt at some self-righteousness caused by guilt. You didn't cause him to be the man he is. He's responsible for countless lives, even yours, and the only person he has to blame is himself."

Aerith, sighed. The voice that she spoke in was calm, yet stern. "Cloud, do you honestly think I'm not aware of all of this? Do you really think I'd willingly put myself is a position like this if I didn't have at least some shred of hope that things would change him?"

Cloud opened his mouth to argue, but Aerith cut him off.

"Despite the fact that your hatred toward him is deserved, Cloud, the planet forgave Sephiroth, just as I have. I wouldn't be sitting here with you if I hadn't of learned to get over my own emotions and get on with my life. He ruined your life, Cloud, but he stole mine from me. Do you know how hard that was to forgive? He stole me away from my friends and family, never to see them again, in some crazy plan to overtake the world of the living. Yet here I am, sitting next to him, drinking tea and realizing that there is more to life than keeping grudges."

By this time, tears were streaming down Aerith's face.

"I know that nothing I can say can make you change your mind, Cloud, but nothing you can do can change mine, either."

Another long stretch of silence overtook the room. The world, at least to Sephiroth, had stopped spinning. Finally, after what seemed like eons, Cloud spoke again.

"Jenova is back."

Aerith gasped, repelling away from Cloud. "No!"

Sephiroth's eyes widened as he looked across the table at Cloud.

Cloud's bright eyes gazed back at Sephiroth with a deep intensity. "Shinra's confirmed it. We learned of it after we nearly ran into you in Wutai. Reno asked me to talk to Rufus, despite the fact that I wanted nothing to do with Shinra any longer, but even Rude was insistent that I talked their boss, so I finally gave in. I was in Wutai as a bit of a favor to Reno. We were helping him clean up the slave ring you two had gotten yourselves into."

Aerith opened her mouth, but Cloud waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Don't ask me how I got in debt with Reno. Trust me, you don't want to know. Fact of the matter was that Reno and Rude were on a bit of a charity mission. Shinra claims to have cleaned up their act a bit, which is why they were in Wutai in the first place, trying to put a stop to that slave ring."

"But what about Jenova?"

Cloud turned his head, looking down at the table. It was obvious to Sephiroth that the boy was very carefully picking his next words.

"Rufus had been monitoring the crater ever since Meteor was destroyed. He wanted to make sure what happened could never happen again. A life form had been found on the radar a while after you two said you had come back, and when it was further investigated Shinra found out what it was. Jenova is trying to use the force of the Lifestream to heal herself. That's part of the reason, since Wutai, I've been trying to hard to find the two of you. I thought that Sephiroth would be behind it."

For the first time since being in Cloud's presence, Sephiroth reached toward his pocket for his notebook.

Cloud instantly tensed, leaning forward in his chair to show that he was ready and willing to strike were Sephiroth to blink wrong.

Slowly taking the notebook from his pocket, Sephiroth flipped it open and began to write, trying his best to ignore Cloud's actions. The boy only meant well, after all, despite being so dense at times. Sephiroth pushed the notebook halfway across the table and withdrew his hands, allowing Cloud to take control of the situation and bring the notebook the rest of the way toward him.

'I've not felt anything since I've been brought back. I no longer have any of Jenova's cells within me.'

Aerith nodded, having read the note while it was being passed. "The planet granted me the power to heal on a more basic level before we were brought back. I was able to take most of the harm Jenova had done to his body and cleanse him of it, ridding Sephiroth of every part of her. There's no way he would have been able to feel that she is back because there's nothing left in his body for Jenova to call back."

Cloud pushed the notebook back, a look of deep thought creasing his brow.

"Despite not being completely comfortable with it, I might have to ask both of you to help, then. Shinra's trying to do everything it can to finally put a stop to Jenova. Rufus doesn't like the idea of something so potentially dangerous and uncontrollable living free within the world. I don't like Jenova period, and would do damn near anything to get rid of her once and for all."

Aerith took a wild guess when Cloud paused for longer than necessary. "What's the problem, then?"

"Jenova's cells are still inside of me, and I've been able to hear her calling out for a while, now. No one thinks I'll be able to face Jenova without her taking control of me. On the other side of the same damn coin, Rufus knows that even his most elite would be no match for Jenova, and can't take the risk of sending men to their death for no reason."

Folding her arms atop the table, Aerith let a sad, yet mirthful smile befall her face. "And you know, now, that Sephiroth and I are both free of Jenova's control."

Cloud nodded. "I'm willing to bet that everyone would drop everything to help us, but I can't ask this of some of them any more. Cid just had a baby, and Barrett finally settled down and is taking care of Marlene. Reeve is doing the best he can to mop up what's left of Midgar. This isn't an easy decision. There aren't more than ten of us, even within Shinra, who know of Jenova's return."

Eyes suddenly brightening, Cloud looked up. His face was full of hope. "Wait! You said that you were able to rid Sephiroth of Jenova's influence. Can you do the same with me?"

Aerith bit her lip. "I don't think I'd be able to, Cloud. I was only able to help Sephiroth because of where we were. It was basically purgatory -between life and death - and the planet was able to reach through me to do what it needed to do to begin to allow Sephiroth to heal."

Cloud's face dimmed. "Even so," he sighed, "I would want you to come with us if you decide to help."

"Yuffie, Vincent, and Red would be more than willing to help out, I'm sure."

Rolling his eyes and heaving a heavy sigh, Cloud tried his best to look angry at Aerith. "I knew they were all hiding something. They knew you were back. I knew they knew something and the were trying to avoid telling me!"

Aerith smiled, tentatively. "Don't be cross with them, Cloud. I made them promise not to tell you. I told them that, if the time was ever right, I would start things over my own way."

Cloud shrugged, obviously not taking her avoidance as an insult any longer. Though it was evident he still didn't much care for the fact that Aerith had been running away from him, the look on Cloud's face portrayed his emotions differently: he wasn't going to allow the idea hurt him any longer, despite him still being slightly disturbed by it. He was forcing himself not to be bothered by it.

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Cloud bit his lip before he continued. "Let me call Tifa and see when she can get everyone ready for pickup. I'll just be a minute."

As soon as Cloud stood, Sephiroth reached out his hand, signaling for a pause in motion. Cloud let an annoyed glare set his eyes tight with annoyance as Sephiroth scribbled a message in his notebook and passed it off to him.

'How did you know where to find us?'

"It wasn't easy," Cloud finally admitted. "But this time it wasn't so bad. That nice doctor, Rej, called me right after he ran into you at the pharmacy this afternoon. I have to confess that I hadn't expected you two to travel so far so fast – I mean Nibelheim is pretty far, just by buggy and boat - but the Highwind makes up for lost time pretty easily, and we were down here in less than a day."

Cloud then turned to Aerith. "I'm sorry. I must have woken you up when I pounded on the door. What time is it? Six in the morning?"

Sephiroth watched, slightly bemused, as Aerith turned her face from Cloud to hide the sweeping blush that overtook her cheeks. "We were already up. We had just been talking about some important things when you nearly broke down the door."

Cloud smiled weakly, apparently too thick-headed to see the blush on Aerith's face, or to understand the hidden meaning behind her words. "Sorry about interrupting, then. Then again, you know me- leap before I look, after all. Anyway- give me a few minutes outside and I'll call Tifa and give her the short version."

He was out the door before anyone could protest otherwise.

This seemed to suit Sephiroth just fine. He immediately slumped in his chair, and let the bag of half-frozen peas fall to the table. He looked to Aerith, wondering what was going on inside her head.

Her face was contemplative, as if she were thinking of a far-off memory. It was several moments before she again returned to reality. Her green eyes shot up suddenly, locking Sephiroth's gaze with intensity.

"I'm afraid, Sephiroth."

He was at her side in an instant, hand on the side of her face. He shook his head, damning himself for his loss of voice, and reached again for his notebook.

'You've nothing to fear, Aerith. I'm here for you. I'll protect you.'

He watched her lower lip tremble when she finished reading his message. She again met his eyes, though she looked no less shaken than before. "I know you will. But who's going to protect you?"

Stunned silence, though not intended on Sephiroth's part, filled the room. Aerith turned her head, as if she were embarrassed by what she had said. "What I mean is that, well, what if something happens down there? I'm not physically strong enough to protect you. I-"

She suddenly shook. Brining up her hands, Aerith wrapped her arms around her upper body.

Sephiroth leaned over on his seat, cupping her cheek in his hand. He let his eyes plead the message his voice was not capable of asking: what was wrong?

"When I purged your body of Jenova, it was with the planet's help. But there wasn't a place for the cells to go without hurting the Lifestream. If the cells were put in a dormant host for a while, they would have eventually died out because they would've been unable to regenerate. Jenova, though, wasn't completely dead, so the cells are reacting."

Suddenly, she shivered again, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms.

The truth hit Sephiroth hard.

Aerith had taken the Jenova cells into her own body to save him.

Panic erupted in his body, making his veins seem as if they had been filled with ice water. He brought his other hand up and placed it on her other cheek, cupping her entire chin in his grip. Slowly, he shook his head from side to side, his eyes growing wide with shock and fear.

She sighed. "I had to. I couldn't let you suffer."

He reached for his notebook and scribbled frantically.

'In Wutai, when we kissed, the reason I pulled back was because something flashed through my vision. I thought it was might have been guilt, or a bad memory, but do you think-'

Aerith, having been reading the message as he had been writing it, suddenly stilled his hands with her gentle grip. "Cloud told us that Jenova's existence was again confirmed right around the time they ran into us in Wutai. I'll bet that Jenova, when you kissed me, could sense you near me and tried to reach out to you. After all, right after that we traveled to Rocket Town and I started to slowly become somewhat angry with you, more often than not. I thought I was just being emotional, but now that I look at it from a different prospective, I can see that I could have been influenced."

Again, she shivered. "I'm scared, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth stood, bringing Aerith to her feet with him. He circled his arms around her shoulders, clutching her close to him, seeking her warmth. He shook his head back and forth, trying desperately not to think of what she had been saying.

Jenova had once ruined his life. He could not let her ruin his only chance at happiness.

"I'm so scared."

He ran a hand gently down the top of her head, smoothing her hair and trying his best to comfort her.

Truth be told, he was petrified as well. Sephiroth knew, however, that he had to remain strong for her sake. For his own sake, too, lest he lose control. He wouldn't allow anything to take Aerith from him, no matter how hard he would have to fight.

"Please don't tell Cloud about the cells."

Taken aback by the sudden change in conversational course, Sephiroth leaned back, forcing Aerith to look him in the eyes.

She shook her head, sighing heavily. "You know that if he were to find out about the cells inside me he wouldn't let me help you fight. I'm the one who has to call the Lifestream; I'm the only one who can. I have to go into the crater with you. I have to be the one to ask the planet to save us all again."

As much as he wanted to tell her no, as much as he wanted to fight Jenova alone and make sure she was sitting safe at home all the while, Sephiroth understood better than anyone what it was she spoke of. She was the last of her kind; she was the only one who, after Jenova was beaten and battered, could call upon the life-force of the planet to finally purge the world of the evil that threatened all life.

There was little doubt in Sephiroth's mind that once Cloud knew of Aerith affliction, the boy would do anything and everything in his power to make sure that Aerith would stay as far away as physically possible from the crater.

Sephiroth was left with little other option. It was take her with them to the center of the planet, or doom the rest of the world to another reign of terror at the hands of a crazed alien. And if the rest of the world died, eventually he and Aerith would die as well.

Sephiroth resigned his inner turmoil with the only decision he was able to make. He bent, writing Aerith another message.

'Cloud won't know, and you'll fight with us. I'll do everything in my power to make sure that you stay safe. I won't let you out of my sight, do you understand?'

After she read his words, she was in his arms and pressed against his chest, crying for the second time that night.

Neither heard the door open, which is why they both were surprised when Cloud cleared his throat. Gently letting his arms fall to his sides, Sephiroth took a step away from Aerith, knowing that the situation had just become that much more awkward for Cloud.

Sephiroth knew it wasn't as though Aerith had purposely avoided telling Cloud what had been going on between them. He realized that Cloud would need time to understand just their friendship, and that telling him they were more than such was just asking for trouble. The right time would present itself, Sephiroth mentally assured himself. He hated, after all, seeing Aerith so upset.

It was obvious from the look on Cloud's face that he was trying very hard not to allow his emotions overcome him. The look on his face was a kept calm, something forced and unnatural. Though Aerith hadn't spoken of her feelings toward Sephiroth openly, by seeing the tender way Sephiroth had been holding her even Cloud could start to make assumptions. Even so, Sephiroth was sure that no one would speak openly of it for quite some time.

Aerith wiped the tears from her cheeks, looking toward Cloud. "I'm sorry. I'm just upset over the whole 'Jenova is back' thing."

Cloud turned his attention away from Sephiroth, immediately softening the look on his face. "I understand. It's a little hard for me to swallow, too. I don't like the idea of having to fight again."

Aerith nodded, turning toward the kitchen and pulling a tissue from box on the countertop. She dabbed at her eyes, looking as though she were trying to settle down.

Cloud's gaze turned back to Sephiroth, his blue eyes alight with annoyance and mild rage. Shoving his hand into his pocket, Cloud produced a folded-up piece of paper and tossed atop the table, toward Sephiroth.

"I'm going to meet Tifa back in the Highwind. The two of you should get some sleep. We're parked on the north end of the forest, about five minuets from town by foot. We'll leave when you two are ready. Take your time to get what you need, but don't take too long, alright?"

Aerith nodded from the kitchen, then smiled weakly. "Tifa still doesn't buy too much of this?"

Cloud shrugged. "I still don't think I get too much of it, honestly."

Sephiroth picked up the paper from the table, flashing it toward Cloud.

Cloud merely shrugged. "Someone asked me to give it to you. For a long time, I didn't really get what the letter was about, or why it was addressed to you of all people. I guess that letter is the only other reason aside form Aerith that I didn't kill you when you opened that door."

He turned, and was out into the night before even Aerith could ask him what he meant.

The corners of the letter, Sephiroth noted, were torn and battered, an obvious sign Cloud had not only been carrying around the piece of paper, but constantly opening it and reading it himself. Whatever was inside was apparently something that changed Cloud's opinion on a few things.

Aerith leaned over his shoulder while he unfolded and began reading the letter.

"Dear Seph,

I don't think I can really thank you enough for what you did for me. My sister is my world, and without your help I would have been lost. Heck, I think I might have been dead, to tell you the truth. You saved us both and I mean it when I say that nothing I can offer you could ever come close to what you returned to me.

The guy with the spiky blonde hair, Cloud, said that you weren't worth thanking, even after I told him our story, but I don't believe him for a second. You helped me and didn't ask anything in return, then gave my sister and I enough money to return home. Sis keeps praising you as a hero, and I know she's not far off.

I owe you my life, and you have all of my respect. If you ever need something, my sis and I live in Costa del Sol. Most of the townsfolk know us, so if you're ever in the neighborhood you be sure to drop by.

My sister wants to thank your friend, Aerith, for helping her, too. Without Aerith there to calm her down and reassure her, I don't think she would have made it very far without breaking down. Aerith helped make it bearable, filled her with hope of rescue, and my sister wants her to know she's grateful.

Like I said, if you're ever in Costa del Sol, drop by my place. We'll have a big celebration!

I know it sounds corny, but I miss you. That Cloud guy doesn't have any idea what he is talking about: you're the reason my sister and I are alive.

Take care,

-Zahi"


	47. Preparation

Unspoken

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 47: Preparation

He heard her sigh heavily after the note had been read.

"I'm glad your friend wrote this. If it wasn't for his letter, it might have been Cloud's sword that met you at the door this morning, not his fist."

Sephiroth, sourly, rubbed his face. Despite not being hit with a sword, his face still hurt and the blow had succeeded in giving him one hell of a fat lip. His ego was severely bruised as well. Though he understood the situation well enough, and somewhat forgave Cloud for his brash action, he was still slightly irritated.

Aerith let out another sigh, her eyes unfocused; an obvious indication that, while her body was presently standing next to Sephiroth, her mind was miles away. Sephiroth brought her back to reality with a gentle touch to her shoulder. He tossed his head slightly, toward the stairs. It was late, they both knew, and neither had slept much at all.

She smiled slightly, looking up to him, and placed her hand atop the one that rested upon her shoulder. Giving his hand a squeeze in an action that seemed to more reassure herself than grant him the favor of relief, Aerith began up the stairs.

They remained quiet as they ventured up the stairs and toward their respective bedrooms, though Sephiroth was certain he could feel the despair that was beginning to emanate off of Aerith. Her eyes half closed from strain and stress, her paleness, her obvious unease; it pained Sephiroth to see his beloved flower girl hurting so. Without much thought, he placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her into her bedroom.

"Seph?" she questioned, turning her head slightly toward him. He pushed her to the bed, gently, allowing her to sit and ease herself onto the mattress. Then pulling the shades down and shutting the door, he plunged the room into darkness.

"Seph?" It was only a whisper that sounded across the room.

He pulled the covers up, covering Aerith's tiny frame beneath them. Only after making sure she was comfortable did he lie down next to her. He gathered her tiny body up in his arms, leaning on his side and sharing the pillow with her. Letting his hand lazily find rest on her hip, Sephiroth leaned forward and kissed Aerith lightly on her forehead.

The smile on her face was obvious, even in the dark. She pressed her face against his chest let out a long breath, seemingly able to forget the troubles on her mind, if only for a moment.

Sephiroth was able to tell the moment she fell asleep, which thankfully wasn't after long. He wanted to make sure she was still happy when she fell into dreamland before he even thought to close his eyes.

Yet even in sleep his mind was filled with little else but her.

She truly had spun some magnificent spell upon him.

It was the feather-light of Aerith's fingertips on his face that brought him back to the world of the conscious. She smiled at him when his lids fluttered open, and he couldn't help the small smile he returned.

"It's almost seven at night. We've slept through the whole day."

Sephiroth shrugged. He was sure Cloud had most likely spent most of his day sleeping as well, what with having been up nearly as long. Besides, it wasn't as though Sephiroth was in any hurry to visit the crater again. Sure, he wanted Jenova gone, but the actual process of ridding the planet of that parasite was going to be trouble.

"We should get going." Sephiroth could hear the sadness seep back in Aerith's voice. He had given her at least a few hours of comfort, which, given what they had to face within the next few days, was all he could afford. It was going to be one hell of a trip.

Still, he rolled over and pulled himself from her, standing up and offering her a hand. She took it, as he knew she would, and stood beside him. Sephiroth flipped the shades open for her, allowing what light from the sunset that could filter through the tress surrounding their cottage in.

He found his way to his own room, despite the dimly lit hallway, and put on a new set of clothing. He pulled a few things – a heavier sweater, another pair of pants, and few pairs of socks – from the drawers he had only placed them in the day before. Without much care, he tossed them into the bag he had become so used to carrying, and had one last long look about his room.

It was a bit of an empty feeling, Sephiroth noted, as he stood in the doorway of the cottage he had, once upon a time, become so accustomed to living in. Strange as it seemed, Sephiroth looked at what little belongings he had gathered upon his and Aerith's venture across the world and vaguely wondered if he would ever see them again: a conical, swirling seashell; a chocobo feather the color of his eyes; a dried posy flower that reminded him of Aerith whenever he looked at it. He heaved a sigh as he closed the room to his door, hoping dearly that he would come back.

It wasn't a question of strength Sephiroth was confronted with: it was a matter of will.

Would he be able to save Aerith if there ever arose such an occasion he felt he had to? He knew, without thinking on it, that he would give his life to save her. Yet, he realized that therein would lay the problem between them; if one of them were to die, so would, then, the other. It was both their gift and their curse- they were bonded to one another, on a level most humans couldn't begin to imagine.

He silently resolved, as he descended the wooden steps of their tiny cottage, that whatever would be would be, and that he would try his damndest to make sure Aerith was a part of what would be. Everything he once sought, everything he once knew to be true, had been upended as he had traveled with Aerith: she was his unmoving rock, his new reality, his everything, and Sephiroth doubted that, since he had spilled his heart to her, he would be able to leave without her. It was hilarious, now that he thought on it, that he had tried to leave her in the first place. She was as much a part of him as he was of her- they were the sun and the moon, the light and the darkness, and neither could survive without the other.

The town of Mideel, tourist season having ended, was shutting down for the night while Aerith and Sephiroth walked through the streets as the sun climbed behind the sea, burying the world in star-speckled darkness. Several people waved hello – or goodbye, as it was obvious the two were leaving again – but few said anything.

Cloud had been telling the truth in whereupon the Highwind had been parked. It had been quite some time since Sephiroth had been on any type of flying contraption and, considering how horribly his stomach had taken to boats, doubted he would be able to hold much of his stomach contents down. Not only was their trip going to be filled with tension and anxiety, it would be highly uncomfortable and would most likely, at least for him, be filled with many-a-trips to the bathroom.

It wasn't, however, Cloud that awaited them at the bow of the Highwind. It was, much to Sephiroth's surprise, Tifa. A warming smile took over the pugilists' face as the two female friends met, and all of a sudden Sephiroth felt rather out of place. Tifa, opening her arms, ran toward Aerith, each engulfing the other in a tight hug.

"Oh, Aerith," Tifa sobbed, resting her head against that of her once lost friend.

All Sephiroth thought Aerith able to do at the moment was cry; several attempts were made at words, so much was clear, but nothing legible left Aerith's lips for several minutes.

Finally, the two girls pulled away.

"I can't believe you're back!" Tifa wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

Aerith smiled, somewhat sheepishly. "I'm sorry I didn't come seek you out sooner, Teef- what with everything that's been happening since I was brought back, and-"

Tifa held up a hand, silencing her friend. "You know I can't stay mad at you, no matter what, Aerith. Cloud told me you had your reasons."

Turning her head, Aerith looked back to Sephiroth, meeting his gaze out of the corner of her eyes. Instantly, Sephiroth watched as Tifa became rigid, her gaze falling from happy to enraged.

Obviously understanding that the level of tension in the immediate area had just become thick enough to suffocate someone, Aerith distracted Tifa by looping her arm through that of her friends' and turning her toward the Highwind. "Wow, an actual airship! I think I remember seeing this in Junon, when I was traveling with you and Cloud before. The Highwind, right? Yuffie told me she can't stand to ride this thing- that it makes her sick to her stomach."

Apparently, Aerith was good at distractions, considering that the tension level decreased greatly and Sephiroth found that he could breathe again.

Tifa laughed. "I forgot that you never got to ride on it. I'm surprised Yuffie can even stand to walk, with how motion sick she gets! She's inside, and so are Vincent and Red, if you're ready to board. We've all been waiting for you."

Aerith smiled. "I'm sorry it took so long. I was so tired. We stayed up so late last night, talking to Cloud and everything, and we lost track of time."

It was an awkward venture for Sephiroth for he, while following silently behind Aerith who was being lead by Tifa, was pretty much being ignored completely by both women. He understood well enough that Aerith was trying to distract her friend and avoid conflict between them all, but that didn't mean he liked being overlooked any less. He felt out of place and alienated, a feeling he had only recently begun to overcome.

He mused silently to himself for a few moments, mentally berating himself for his selfishness. Sephiroth had already traveled the world over with Aerith in his everyday company. While he wanted nothing more than to be by her side, he also knew that she had another life, a separate life from him, that would need time to merge with the life they lead while just the two of them.

Without much thought, he knew it was going to be tough convincing both Cloud and Tifa that he meant to bring happiness to Aerith, instead of misery. It was going to be difficult, traveling with all of them. Hopefully having Vincent, Yuffie, and Red by his side would improve upon his chances of Cloud and Tifa not completely hating his mere existence. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

Upon the deck, everyone greeted Aerith once more. Red rubbed against her legs, then looked to Sephiroth and gave him a somewhat satisfied nod of his head. Vincent, after laying an affectionate hand on Aerith's shoulder and welcoming her back into their ragtag group of once-heroes, slowly made his way toward Sephiroth. Holding his arm out, the gunman offered his hand in greeting. Without much thought, Sephiroth took and shook what was quite possible, aside from Aerith of course, the closest thing to an ally he had in the room.

Out of the corner of his eyes, however, Sephiroth noticed Tifa shift uncomfortably and take a step closer to Cloud, having noticed the small exchanges between Red, Vincent, and Sephiroth. It was more than apparent how uncomfortable she was in his presence, and so the swordsman took a step backward, away from the crowd in the middle of the room. The last thing Sephiroth wanted at this point was to stir up any kind of trouble. They, after all, had the same communal goal of ridding the world of the parasite Jenova. It simply wouldn't do for them to all fight amongst themselves about other matters until Jenova was taken care of.

Sephiroth watched as Yuffie bounded over, hugging Aerith close and smiling widely toward Tifa. "It's just like old times!" she chanted, gleefully. "And since we won't get to the crater until tomorrow, we even have time for a sleepover tonight!" The excitable ninja turned to Sephiroth, still smiling, evidently having not taken in the seriousness of the situation. Either that, or Yuffie was simply trying to mask her fear with an overabundance of excitement and pep . "Seph can make us pancakes, like back in Nibelheim, too! I want chocolate chips in mine this time, and-"

It was apparent to all in the room, excluding Yuffie of course, that such a little statement could have quite the impact. Tifa looked suddenly to Cloud as if searching for direction, while Cloud tried not to look stiff over hearing that Yuffie seemed to be on such a friendly basis with Sephiroth already. Vincent and Red glanced, rather uncomfortably, toward one another.

Thankfully, just like earlier, Aerith seemed to have a knack for distractions and immediately interrupted the young girl. "Actually, Yuffie, before we do anything else, do you think that you could show Sephiroth and I to our rooms? This shoulder bag is getting heavy, and I want to see the ship before we take off."

Yuffie, still oblivious to the impact her simple sentence had made only seconds before, smiled even wider, were it at all possible, and took Aerith by the hand. "Come on: you too, Seph!"

Sephiroth didn't need to be told twice, even by Yuffie; he was at Aerith's heels within an instant, following the two ladies out of the room and away from the massive cloud of tension that hung like a dead man in the room.

Yuffie was still chatting while the three of them made their way down one of the smaller corridors of the airship and toward what would become their lodging for the trip. It didn't come as any surprise to Sephiroth that whoever had given rooms out had made sure not to place Sephiroth and Aerith near one another's rooms. It seemed that the gentlemen were to take one side of the hallway, while the women took residence on the other, Sephiroth smack-dab between, or at least according to Yuffie, Vincent's room and Cloud's room.

Biting his lip, Sephiroth made due with the reality of the situation: he was going to be somewhat of a prisoner while aboard the ship.

He decided, however, to let them think what they would. Jenova was a more important matter on his mind than what Aerith's friends thought of him at the moment. If getting some peace meant keeping to his room, Sephiroth would be fine with the situation. Staying out of everyone's way would ensure that he wouldn't anger someone, however accidental.

Sephiroth bid Aerith and Yuffie a slight farewell with a curt bow of his head, then promptly disappeared into this room. Despite not having been awake for more than a few hours, his mind was exhausted. The entire time he and Aerith had walked the thin forest paths that wound their way to the fields outside of Mideel his heart had been beating a mile a minute. Sephiroth's anxiety level had shot through the roof. True, he had managed to hold his composure better than most, but that didn't mean that he hadn't been shaking in his boots the entire time.

The most awkward thing to Sephiroth wasn't that he feared any of Aerith's friends. No, it was that she might, while in the company of her friends, change her mind about him. Of course, he knew that Aerith wasn't the type to change fancies on the mere whim of words, but that didn't mean Sephiroth was without doubts. A bit of a pessimist it seemed he had turned into as of late, always assuming the worst. Perhaps, he mused half-heartedly, he should stop being such a downer. He had, after all, managed to gain the affections of his beloved flower girl in the first place. It was obvious he had what he wanted; Aerith's heart. He was, then, afraid to loose the only thing he truly cared for.

Sephiroth hadn't noticed he'd fallen into a light slumber until a soft knock restored his perception of reality. The soft light of the lamp that sat atop the bedside table was turned up to a more bright glow before Sephiroth moved to open the door.

Aerith stood in the doorway, her head crooked at a slight angle, with a plate of food in her hands. She walked into his room without instruction, closing the door with her foot while flashing him a smile.

"I thought you might be hungry. I snuck away from everyone to come bring you some dinner."

Sephiroth accepted the plate graciously, warming his face for her to see his gratitude. Aerith's smile widened.

"Mind if I sit with you while you eat?"

Absentmindedly, Sephiroth shook his head, pacing back to his bed and picking up the fork. Just as he hadn't realized how tired he had been until he had lain down, he hadn't realized how hungry he was until he had food before him. He ate everything she had brought to him, delighted in the fact that she had also managed to sneak him out a piece of pie. Leave it to Aerith to remember his liking for the sugary confection. It wasn't cake, but it was nearly as good.

After finishing his meal, then turning to place the plate down next to him, Sephiroth reached for his notebook.

'Thank you.'

Aerith smiled up at him again, shrugging. "I thought you might be hungry, and I didn't want you to miss out on dinner." She leaned her head against his shoulder and let out a heavy sigh.

Again, Sephiroth reached for his notebook.

'That's not what I was initially thanking you for, though the food was appreciated. I wanted to thank you for all that you've done for me in these past months.'

She shook her head at him. "You were the one who had to take the steps, Sephiroth: they are your feet. I'm just the one that pushed you."

He looked down at her, his sweet piece of heaven, and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. He wrote her another message.

'It was my own feet I was forced to step with, yes, but it was you who gave me wings. You've changed me from a monster to a man.'

At this message, Aerith laughed. "You were always a man. You had just lost your way and mixed up your footing is all. A person never knows where their lives will lead them, but they always know that their feet will carry them there. If someone else meets them on their journey and their paths converge into one, then they are no longer lonely."

He looked at her with a slight pang of guilt in his eyes.

'Do you think that defeating Jenova will allow you to hear the planet again?'

Aerith sighed, purposefully hiding her eyes so that she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. After a few moments, she bit her lip. "I really hope so."

Hoping to comfort her, he placed a feather-light kiss atop her forehead.

'Even if you can't hear it, I will always be here for you, Aerith. I meant it when I told you that I love you.'

Her smiled returned, warming Sephiroth down to his toes.

A sudden knock tore the two from their musings. Aerith stood and pulled the door open, revealing Yuffie with an exasperated look set upon her features. "When you didn't come back, Cloud got worried so he sent me to come get you. He's being such a chocobo-head, though. Can I hang out here, with you guys?"

Never one to turn someone away, Aerith moved aside and invited Yuffie in. Though Sephiroth was disappointed that their moment had disappeared, he moved over to make room for both girls to join him sitting upon the bed. He had, after all, taken a slight liking to Yuffie. She was loud, obnoxious, opinionated, and all that Aerith didn't seem to be. It was enjoyable to be in Yuffie's company for the sheer fact that nobody quite knew what would fall next from her brain and out her mouth.

"I thought you said you got sick when you ride on this thing?" Aerith commented, settling into a comfortable position on the bed between both Sephiroth and Yuffie.

Shrugging, Yuffie let the comment slide away. "Vincent gave me a few Hypers before we took off. The effect won't last super-long, but it'll be long enough to count. So, what do you guys think about all of this?"

Aerith shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her forearms. "I'm scared, Yuffie. I thought this was a battle we had already won."

Yuffie nodded in agreement. "To tell you the truth, I'm really sick and tired of all this bullshit fighting we always have to do. I mean, sure, I like playing the hero and all, but I'm human too you know. I get tired like everyone else. I wish we didn't have to fight anymore. I wish I could just…"

Tilting his head, Sephiroth set a curious look on his face aimed at the young girl sitting across from him.

"I just want to be able to settle down a little bit. We're always on the run, you know? Even when it was just Vincent and I up in Nibelheim, we still helped some of the guides take groups through the mountain pass just to make sure the monsters weren't harassing people."

Not being able to help the smile that drifted to her lips, Aerith teased Yuffie and poked at her side. "Our little Yuffie, talking of wanting to settle down? Oh, sweetie, you've met someone haven't you?"

The shade of red that Yuffie's face turned to was an instant indication that Aerith had hit something the young ninja wasn't quite prepared for.

It was, then, just in Yuffie's good fortune, that another knock sounded at the door. "I'll get it!" Yuffie bounded off the bed, obviously thanking Leviathan's shining scales that they had been interrupted.

Sephiroth shot Aerith a small, knowing smile before either of them turned their attention to the door and who stood within its frame.

"Cloud sent me to check on you checking on Aerith checking on Sephiroth, if any part of that statement made a lick of sense." Red scratched at his nose with his paw before sauntering past Yuffie and sitting down near the bed, apparently wanting nothing to do with anything that was past the span of his slight personal interest. "Dinner was too boring to stay put anyway. Sitting at a table is uncomfortable and awkward, not to mention simply silly considering I don't have thumbs to hold a fork with in the first place, and eating on the floor is somewhat degrading when everyone else is on a chair and no one feels it polite to come and eat with me."

Yuffie scratched Red behind an ear, absentmindedly. "I offered to sit with you, but you said that you would be fine!"

Red's brightly lit tail-flame flickered slightly. "I refused out of politeness. That, and it was apparent you would rather sit next to Tifa and tell her jokes. What was that last clever one where you asked if she liked sea-food, then promptly opened your mouth full to show her all of your chewed up dinner? I don't think I get it."

Sephiroth bit his lip, trying to keep himself from smirking. That sure sounded like Yuffie.

Vincent, surprising everyone in the room, chuckled once. No one had noticed his entrance. He silently closed the door. "You wouldn't believe how many times she played that joke on me at home. At nearly every meal her mouth would open and divulge unto the world the swirling mass of chewed-up food."

Yuffie, rolling her eyes and stomping her foot impatiently, stuck her finger out toward Vincent in a most affronted manner. "I never did it that often, Vincent Valentine, and you know it."

Smirking behind his cape, Vincent countered the assault. "It was enough times for me to come to hate that joke with all of my being."

Everyone, excluding Yuffie of course, snickered. Even Sephiroth found himself covering his mouth with the palm of his hand in an attempt to keep his silent laughter to himself.

The night wore on with much of the same antics, and laughter lightened the hearts of all those within the room. Sephiroth found himself to be slightly surprised at how easily he seemed to get along with, as well as enjoy the shared company of, the majority of Aerith's friends.

It was nearing the deep hours of the night when, once more, a knock at the door sounded. Yuffie, without thinking, bounced up and threw the door open in a rush, surprising both the occupants of the room as well as Cloud who merely stood in the doorway for a moment before finding the words he had obviously swallowed a moment before. "Tifa says it's a good idea if everyone gets a good night sleep tonight. We're almost there, and we need to get going as soon as we can in the morning."

Yuffie waved her hand in the air, brushing off Tifa's motherly instinct. "We're having fun, Cloud! I mean, honestly- when is the next time everyone is going to get together like this? Hell, spikey, when was the last time we got together like this? Cut us some slack!"

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Yuffie, we all have a job to do. There's going to be lots of time to hang out and have fun after this is all finished."

Vincent put his hand on Yuffie's shoulder when it was obvious, based on the fact that she puffed out her lower lip and set her arms upon her hips in what was quite the theatrical mock-pout, the conversation wasn't going to end well. "Perhaps Cloud is right," Vincent offered. "It will do none of us any good if we are tired tomorrow."

Heaving the heaviest sigh she could muster, Yuffie turned and waved to those in the room. "Vincent says I have to go to bed now." She was still pouting, though the theatrics had been toned down.

After everyone had left the room, save for Aerith and Sephiroth, Cloud poked his head back in. "You going to be alright, Aerith?"

She nodded in affirmation, smiling ever so slightly. "Sephiroth and I were just talking before everyone showed up, that's all. I'm fine, Cloud."

It was not out of spite that Sephiroth had left his notebook sitting on his bed-side table. It was, more or less, forgetfulness. Sephiroth hadn't, after all, meant to leave his notebook on the table. The table had merely been where it had ended up being set down last, and since Sephiroth had been so intently listening to the stories of Vincent, Yuffie, Red, and Aerith, he had forgotten completely that he had not only left his notebook there in the first place, but he had forgotten to close the damn thing as well.

Just as well, neither had Cloud meant to read it- it was simply something his eyes glanced over when he turned his head. It had, however, caught his attention none the less.

_'I meant it when I told you that I love you' _was written atop a new page, face up and bare for all the world to see.

Cloud's face took on a deep shade of red, though be it from anger or embarrassment Sephiroth couldn't tell: the boy shut the door so fast and so suddenly that even Aerith jumped.

"Was Cloud's face all pink, or am I seeing things?" Aerith turned to Sephiroth, throwing him a quizzical look.

Sephiroth reached over, took the notebook from its resting place, and flashed it at Aerith. It was apparent from the look on her face that she understood instantly what had just passed.

"I guess the moogle is out of the bag now, isn't it?"

Stealing his pen up, Sephiroth again flashed the notebook at Aerith.

'It wasn't the best way to tell him, but perhaps it was the easiest. At least he didn't make a scene. He was going to find out sooner or later anyway, wasn't he?'


	48. Descend

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 48: Descend

The chilling winds that rang up from the gaping hole in the planet's crust made a sound that sent shivers up Sephiroth's spine. The biting cold drummed at his cheeks and hammered at his lungs as he descended the ladder into the crater. The last place on the planet he wished to be was the rigid, frozen lip of earth that rose up and threatened to swallow all. How he pined to be back inside the cabin in Mideel, eating cake and generally not giving a damn about the rest of the world.

Aerith, marching in place to keep warm, greeted him at the bottom of the ladder that led back to the Highwind. The sound of the propeller blades as they circled tirelessly could be heard over the ravaging howl of the wind, though only just.

Sephiroth turned around to face those he had been forced to travel with.

Cloud and Tifa manned the front, giving the team direction. "We'll head in as all one group, and split when the roads forks further down. By then, it won't be nearly as cold." The pugilist rubbed her mitten-clad hands against one another, craving even what little warmth the friction gave.

Cloud cleared his throat, continuing where Tifa had left off. "No one can really tell where Jenova is this time, but we can at least check the places she was last time we were in this hell hole. Get as far in as you can, and kill anything that gets in the way. Watch out for Tonberries, though; I don't want to have to use Phoenix Downs unless we absolutely have to. Save your potions and materia for when you need them, and when you need them only."

Yuffie stomped her foot impatiently, shivering as she did so. "Okay, **mom**, we get it. Now can we please get moving? I'm freezing my toes off, here!"

Trying his best to ignore the ninja's antics, Cloud continued. "Communication is important. Don't lose sight of the person in front of you. I wasn't happy having to come here once, and now we're all here for a second trip. Let's make sure there isn't a third."

As the group began to meander down the steep sides of the lipped wall of rocks that was the crater, Sephiroth was careful to be watchful of anything and everything that moved.

The urge to finally rid the world of the parasite was his driving force, of course, but Aerith's well-being concerned him more than it should have. Dark circles sat below her eyes, as though she hadn't slept in days, and her cheeks and face shone red as if she had caught a fever. She had insisted that it was nothing, and that Sephiroth shouldn't worry. Her statement, however, hadn't lain to rest any of his fears, especially as he watched her walk in front of him; her legs were stiff, her knees wobbly, and she teetered as though she might tip over at any time.

No one had said anything, however. Sephiroth knew they all had their reasons for allowing Aerith peace of mind. And while none but Sephiroth knew that the Jenova cells Aerith had purged from his body were resting inside of his precious flower maiden, he was beginning to assume her friends were establishing suspicions over her suddenly poor health and the reasons for it. Cloud, perhaps, knew better than anyone: Jenova cells worked fast, be the effects good or bad.

It was well later into the day before the temperature rose from freezing-the-boogers-in-your-nose to only freezing-the-breath-in-front-of-you. Though monster encounters were minimal near the lip of the crater, the few beasts that ventured out from behind the craggy rocks and crevices were easily enough beaten down by the larger number of travelers.

The road, just as Tifa and Cloud has mentioned, split, though a good distance into the crater. Cloud stepped to one side of the trail, and then turned around to face the group that had been following him so diligently, yet again, into the crust of the earth. "Vincent, Yuffie, and Red: I want you to take the left trail. Aerith, Tifa, Sephiroth and I will take the right."

Yuffie scoffed, but didn't say anything, obviously feeling left out for one reason or another. Vincent nodded once in recognition, while Red merely rubbed his head and neck against Yuffie's leg as he walked past, silently encouraging her to stay quiet.

It was apparent at once, even without Yuffie's distasteful noise, that Cloud had arranged the parties prior, without consulting either he or Aerith. On any other given day, Sephiroth might find humor in protesting against Cloud's leadership, even if only to piss him off. His worry for Aerith's health, and his want to plunge Masamune into Jenova's withered heart, however, outweighed his mischievousness, and so he kept his face emotionless and put deviance out of his mind.

The two groups split without saying farewells. Sephiroth didn't find it odd, however, when he began to think of the situation. They had, after all, succeeded in venturing to the bottom of the crater and back again once before: Sephiroth was sure that, despite the apprehension in the air, none in the group held doubt in their hearts that they wouldn't succeed. Not sure whether to call it arrogance or simple self-confidence, Sephiroth pushed it from his mind and concentrated on placing one foot after the other.

Further and further into the crater the team ventured, and thicker and thicker the air seemed to become. Their pace, once brisk, had slowed to what seemed like a staggering crawl, and walking was beginning to feel like a chore, even for the toned muscles in Sephiroth's calves. He could only imagine how tired Aerith must be feeling.

"I'm sorry, Cloud. What did you say?"

Cloud turned around suddenly, facing Aerith. "What?" A clear look of confusion was beset upon his face.

Aerith, in turn, made just as confused a facial expression as Cloud. "You didn't say anything? I could have sworn you called out my name and then asked me something."

Tifa, apprehensive, laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It's the depth, and all the concentrated energy. It's getting to all of us." Looking up, Tifa met Cloud's gaze. "Why don't we take a little rest? I'm sure I'm not the only one here who's hungry for some lunch."

To be perfectly honest, the last thing on Sephiroth's mind was food. Yet, even if only for Aerith, he sat down and graciously accepted the sandwich handed to him.

Lunch was silently consumed. Sephiroth carefully watched both Aerith and Cloud out of the corner of his eyes, noting suddenly that both seemed weary as the other. Sephiroth recalled that Cloud most likely still had Jenova cells inside of him. The voice of the parasitic bitch was most likely calling out to both of them, her far-reaching tendrils of consciousness probably trying desperately to soak up as much energy as they could. Sephiroth knew, all too well, what it felt like to be under Jenova's influence. Even though hew knew Cloud would hate him for it, Sephiroth couldn't help but feel empathy for him.

"Tifa? I have to go to the bathroom, but I don't think it's a good idea to go alone. Could I bother you into coming with me?" Aerith's plea made enough sense, and was filled with enough honesty, that Tifa didn't waste a moment in acquiescing. The two were up and wondering off at once.

Cloud didn't miss his chance. As soon as the girls were out of earshot, he began glaring daggers at Sephiroth. "I'm not really sure where you get off telling her shit like that, but I don't believe you're capable of meaning any of it."

It was obvious, both from the tone of his voice as well as the scowl on his face, that Cloud was referring to the declaration of affection Sephiroth had presented Aerith with the night previous, before Yuffie, Vincent, and Red had entered the room.

Sephiroth tossed Cloud the reply he had written out in the notebook.

'I don't really see how it's any of your damned business, to tell you the honest truth. If she'll have me, who I am to complain?'

Cloud spat in the dirt, apparently not pleased with what he was given as a reply. "She deserves better, and you damn well know it. You don't have any right to hold her heart, and I don't think for one second she means shit to you. What are you planning? What are you going to use her for?"

Another message was scribbled upon the notebook's pages. 'You really think I'm playing here? You think I don't notice her for the woman she is, the kindness she freely shoves at others, and the warmth of her heart? A man would have to be blind to shun her affections, else a fool.'

Cloud heaved a sigh. "You're not a man, Sephiroth: you're a monster."

Undeterred, Sephiroth snatched back his notebook and began another message.

'I am sure that you remember what time, though limited, we spent in SOLDIER, fighting side by side. You respected me then. We shared a common friend in Zax. I am now, more than ever, trying to be the man you once sought to be, Strife. I am not perfect, but I am damn well trying to be decent.'

Cloud heaved a heavy sigh. "Then she already returns the messed up feelings you have for her?"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, wishing he could write faster. 'Despise me if you must, but she's the only thing in the past thirty-odd years to even come close to making me sane, to making me feel like everything could be better instead of filled with pain and torment. Irony is what makes the beast love the maiden, and, for some sick twist of fate, for her to return the favor in kind.'

Another sigh escaped Cloud's lips. "You really care for her then? Shiva above, Ifrit below – this is some kind of messed up."

Had he the ability to make a loud noise of protest, Sephiroth would have more than obliged the inner feeling of annoyance that was bubbling up within him. Being tortured and denied happiness for nearly all of his childhood, and well into his teenaged years? Sephiroth considered that messed up. Willingly accepting that a parasitic alien was your mother and allowing her to convince you to destroy the world in order to rule over it? Sephiroth considered that, too, beyond sanity. But loving, and being loved by, someone he had once wronged? Alright, it was slightly messed up given the circumstance that he had killed Aerith, not to mention the fact that he had been reborn despite his sins, but really- where was Sephiroth to draw the line? The entirety of his existence was messed up, by all accounts.

Cloud didn't have time to try to guilt Sephiroth any further, for Aerith and Tifa closed in upon them.

"Everyone ready to go?" Tifa casually rested her hands on her hips.

An enormous tremor rippled through the cavern, followed by a scream so shrill it chilled Sephiroth down to the marrow. Another tremor followed. Everyone fell into their respective fighting stance, preparing themselves for anything. Four pairs of eyes swept over the cavern, alert and focused, making sure nothing was coming their way.

After several minutes, all became still and silent once more. "Was that Jenova?" Tifa, uneasily, shifted her weight from one foot to another.

No one had time to answer her question, however, for as suddenly as the tremors began so did Aerith and Cloud fall to their knees, clutching their heads.

"Goddamn!" Cloud cursed, pressing his palms against the sides of his head.

Aerith whimpered in pain. Sephiroth fell to his knees beside her, reaching out and placing both of his hands upon either side of her face. He forced her to look at him, to make eye contact. Though no words fell from his mouth, he knew his eyes clearly conveyed the message his heart tried desperately to shout: 'I am here.'

Sephiroth could feel Aerith try to gather her wits and her strength. Slowly, she stood and walked toward Cloud. Sephiroth was hardly half a pace behind her, worried she would collapse.

"Cloud," her voice called. She was shaking.

Shaking his head violently in protest, Cloud stood and tried to edge away from Aerith. Tifa reached a hand out toward him, but Cloud shook her off before she could get near.

"Cloud, look at me."

This time, for whatever reason, Cloud looked toward Aerith.

Reaching out a shaking hand, she extended her forefinger and pressed it against Cloud's brow.

By the time Sephiroth realized what was happening, it was too late: bright light erupted from the tip of Aerith's finger and suddenly she was falling backwards, her arms limp, towards the rocky earth. It was only by pure reflex that Sephiroth had managed to catch her before her backside made contact with the gravel of the cave floor. He pulled her close, gently allowing her to sit, before he turned to face Cloud.

Bewilderment and terror fell across Cloud's features. It was only a moment later that realization hit his eyes.

Aerith had just extracted the Jenova cells from Cloud's body.

Sephiroth looked back to the woman in his arms. Despite her pale face or sweat on her forehead, Aerith smiled up at him as if nothing at all were wrong with the world.

Cloud and Tifa, each bent on one knee, knelt next to Sephiroth, looking fearfully at Aerith. "Are you going to be okay?" Tifa's normally confident voice sounded shaken.

Aerith lazily allowed her head to loll toward where Tifa was. Again, the flower girl offered a peaceful smile, though no words.

Cloud cursed, running a hand through his spiky hair. "Aerith, why did you do that? What happened? I don't understand!"

Heaving a heavy sigh, Aerith turned to face Cloud. "I couldn't hear the planet when we were in Mideel, Cloud, so I couldn't do anything about the Jenova cells in your body. But being so close to the Lifestream here in the crater, I was able to hear a little of what it wanted from me, despite Jenova's influence. Her cells are still within you, just like the cells themselves are within Sephiroth, but now her influence and control are within me. It's all I can do. You'll still be as strong as you are, but no more headaches. For the most part, you're free."

Tentatively, Cloud reached out and gathered one of Aerith's limp hands within his own. "Aerith, why? It's you we need down here! You're the one who has the power to get rid of Jenova!"

Aerith let her head roll from side to side. "You don't understand, Cloud. My powers are limited. Why do you think I wasn't able to kill her the first time?"

Tifa gasped.

Sephiroth felt his blood go cold. What, dear Ramuh in the sky, were they meant to do if Aerith couldn't help?

Struggling, Aerith stood. Sephiroth aided her as best he could, despite her obvious wish to be independent. She looked to her comrades and heaved a heavy sigh. "We have to keep moving. We have to."

No one questioned her motives. No one even questioned her health. Sephiroth stuck out his elbow for Aerith to take hold of and without so much as another word the group began once more to descend into the bowels of the planet.

The further they went, the louder the howling became. The screams of the planet were apparent even to Tifa, who was, in all respects, human and shouldn't have been able to hear the sounds the earth made. She covered her ears on several occasions, but made no complaint. Sephiroth found, albeit grudgingly, a bit of respect for her; even his ears were tiring to the point that if he had a voice, he might be thinking of hollering back at the damn noise. It was almost too much to take.

"There. She's up there. Around the corner and to the right."

No one questioned how Aerith knew where Jenova was. They merely kept walking, placing one foot after the other.

The screaming stopped, and Sephiroth found himself shaking. His heart beat frantically, his nerves frayed, as he helped Aerith to the cliff that delved deep into the core of the planet.

There, perched upon a rock nearing the lip of the hole, sat the bulbous, seething form of Jenova. Her mouth opened, revealing saliva-covered yellow teeth as a hiss of pure hatred issued fourth from her mouth.

Sephiroth heard Cloud swallow a large breath of air. "What do we do?"

It was odd for Sephiroth to hear Cloud asking for direction so shamelessly.

Aerith took a deep breath, heaving it outward and trying not to fall. "Draw your weapons. This ends now."

Though for only a moment, Sephiroth caught Clouds' gaze in his own. Both men nodded toward one another only once, recognizing that their situation was do-or-die, and neither had any plan to join the planet quite yet. Sephiroth reached for his belt, placing a hand on Masamune's leather hilt, while Cloud reached behind his head, pulling his Buster Sword from the holster fastened to his back. Slowly, each of the two men returned their gazes toward the hole before them, and the parasite that plagued the planet.

But, as fate would have it, they were a moment too late. A thrashing tentacle shot upward out of the gaping pit, and sped toward them. Sephiroth moved to unsheathe Masamune, but hadn't been expecting a full-on attack so quickly. The appendage shot toward them, and at the last minute, veered toward Sephiroth.

He braced himself, readying his body for the worst, but an unexpected pressure from his side sent him an extra step to his side.

Jenova's tentacle pieced Aerith's chest.

The limb retracted, and a scream of victory echoed through the walls of the planet's core.

Sephiroth thought it peculiar that everything had begun to move in slow motion. He felt cold, a bone-freezing chill, all over, as if he had been dunked in a hot tub then thrown into an ice bath. He fell to his knees, reaching out for Aerith, but his hands felt like clubs of meat and his fingers refused to do as he bade them.

A terrible tremor ripped trough Sephiroth's body as the most horrifying sound rippled throughout the enclosure. The sound continued, even as his hands managed to find their way around Aerith.

As she lay, bleeding, in his arms, Sephiroth realized what the sound that shook his very being was: a cry of anguish delivered straight from his own mouth.

No words; raw and simple agony slipped passed his lips and bounced off the rocks around them.

Was that what it was like to lose the one you love?

Was that what he had done to Cloud and the others when he had harmed his flower girl so?

"We have to get her out of here. Shit, how did I let this happen?" Cloud face was pale, and his hands shook as he reached out for Aerith's hand.

Her eyes were glazed over, but still she took breath. She convulsed once, then spat blood and closed her eyes. Her breathing became frantic.

"I am so scared, Seph. I thought I was ready to die, like last time, but I don't want to go. I don't want to be without you."

Everything in Sephiroth's world stopped. Suddenly, his body was numb and cold, his disposition relaxed. He knew what needed to be done.

Ever so carefully Sephiroth stood, picking Aerith up and gently handing her to Cloud's open arms.

A look of panic struck Cloud's features. "What are we-"

Sephiroth shook his head, holding up a hand to shut Cloud up.

With a great effort, Sephiroth wrote as quickly as he could and handed his message to Cloud.

'Call Vincent. Have Chaos fly Aerith to Mideel. Doc Rej can help. Go now or she'll die. I can kill Jenova.'

Shaking his head, Cloud tried to protest.

It was, however, Tifa, who interjected on Sephiroth's behalf and, with a fully open palm, slapped Cloud across the face.

"Get it together! We need to get Aerith out of her, now! Sephiroth is giving us time."

Without so much as waiting for a reaction, Tifa pulled her cell phone from her pocket and jammed Vincent's number into the number pad. Her message was short and simple. "Aerith's hurt bad. Get Chaos down here- we have an emergency!"

Tifa turned, tugging Cloud toward the way they had only just come from. "He's going to meet us just up ahead. He doesn't want to phase too close to Jenova- we can't afford anyone else getting hurt."

Cloud looked to Sephiroth for a moment longer.

"You really love her, don't you?"

Just once, Sephiroth nodded.

"And you're willing to die to protect the planet she loves so much, aren't you?"

To this, Sephiroth only smiled.

Cloud turned and followed Tifa down the tunnel. Neither of them looked back.

No, Sephiroth wouldn't die. For him to die would also mean that Aerith would die.

Sephiroth had a much easier way to save what Aerith cared so much to protect.

Just like in Nibelheim, Sephiroth would allow the mako to encase him. Much like his own mother had done to herself, Sephiroth would be put into a state of suspended animation. Aerith would have to learn to live without him, for he saw no other way.

He would have to jump into the deepest part of the crater to destroy Jenova, but in doing so he would trap himself.

Reaching out with his consciousness, Sephiroth probed the area around him, noting the gentle ebb and flow of the lifestream that gushed forth in tiny spurts from the hole Jenova had implanted herself within. When he was satisfied that he no longer sensed sentient life within the crater, he took a step toward the crater.

Jenova hissed upward at him again. Sephiroth smirked when he saw how feeble she had truly become. The tentacle had been meant for him, that much was for sure, but it had been all Jenova had within her. Her hisses and snarls were the only fight left in her. So desperate in her attempt for revenge was she that she had expended nearly all of her energy on one attack.

Sephiroth stood on the edge of the hole. Masamune now drawn and held tight within his hand, he took a deep breath.

'Aerith,' he prayed with all of his heart. 'Forgive me. This is the only way I know to save you.'

Thrusting Masamune in front of him, Sephiroth jumped.


	49. Peace

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 49: Peace

Everything around him was filled with light. The air was warm, and overflowing with hope.

Love.

Love was all around him.

Slowly, Sephiroth drew his eyes open. The colors of the Lifestream flickered in and out of existence before him, gently cradling his floating body. He felt as though he was immersed in water, weightless, yet his lungs filled with sweet, fresh air. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out in a relaxed sigh, Sephiroth pondered if his plan had actually worked. His memory a blur, he tried to piece everything back together.

He had jumped off the lip of the innermost sanctum of the crater, into the core of all life on the planet. He remembered Masamune hitting the flesh of Jenova, cleaving her withered body in two. Her pieces fell from the small perch she had embedded herself on and she, along with Sephiroth, fell toward the bright, warm light of the Lifestream.

A sudden tingling sensation warmed Sephiroth down to his toes. His ears filled with the sound of laughter and even though his heart was full of worry over the prospect of having inadvertently killing Aerith in trying to save both her and the planet, his heart felt light.

Suddenly, a gentle voice sang out in his ears.

"You've saved us."

The voice was a collective - as though a thousand spoke with the clarity of one – and Sephiroth knew without having to ask that it was the voice of the Lifestream, of the planet, itself.

He shook his head, wishing away the praise. Sephiroth had killed Jenova for selfish reasons – to save, and for the adoration of, Aerith; to save what Aerith cherished so; for revenge.

The lights of the planet grew brighter in front of him, as if chiding him for his thoughts. Again, the voice rang out. "Though you think your actions were selfish in origin, what you have done has saved us, as well as our last child."

Sephiroth knew the planet meant Aerith, and the Cetra blood within her. If she were gone, the Lifestream would have no others to converse freely with, save the souls of the dead that flowed within it.

The glow burned a deep pink, and Sephiroth suddenly missed Aerith's company. Since they had been brought back, they hadn't willingly left the other's side. To be without her put a hole in Sephiroth's heart. Obviously sensing such, the Lifestream let out another warming bout of laughter, though this time it sounded somewhat teasing.

"Do you wish to see her?"

His heart swelled. Of course he wanted to see her. He wanted to see her and hold her and kiss her and tell her that she was his everything.

The planet's melodious voice rang out again, as if it had sensed his love for Aerith. "There is much you've learned, little one, but still much more you must uncover. Begin your life anew once more, and tell her you love her with the love you have shown us. You are the greatest gift we can offer her."

Sephiroth shielded his eyes, for everything around him had begun to burn brightly.

The next thing he knew was cold.

A deep, near-freezing rush surrounded him, stole the breath from his lungs, and threatened to drown him. He kicked wildly with his legs, desperate to be rid of the pressure around his head and chest. Opening his mouth, he tried to take in a breath of air-

His mouth filled with water.

Spitting and coughing, Sephiroth broke the water's surface and tired his best to take a deep breath. His chest heaved as he kicked his legs as hard as he could and pushed himself to the bank. With his elbows, he pulled himself onto a shallow, grassy knoll and tried regulate his breathing. His air intake finally under control, Sephiroth sat up, curiously gazing about and taking in his surroundings.

Reality suddenly kicked him in the head.

He knew these woods! He was back in the forests of Mideel, resting in the same patch of grass he and Aerith had woken up in only months ago.

Trying, once again, to regulate his breathing, Sephiroth calmed his mind and body. He reached out with his consciousness, desperately searching for Aerith.

He found her. North. She was at the hospital.

For a split second, he pondered how much time had passed since he had plunged into the Lifestream. Then, with a startling and abrupt realization that he didn't give a damn, Sephiroth shot to his feet. Up and running in an instant, he willed his legs to pump as fast as they could. He watched as the forest whipped past his sight in a blur. All he could think about was Aerith, and how he needed to be at her side.

He sped through the town, narrowly dodging vendor carts and people alike, weaving in and out of an entwining maze of familiar people and places. Several people shouted at him in welcome, while several others chided him for his reckless speed. Sephiroth blocked them all out.

As he neared the hospital, he attempted to clear his mind and find Aerith once more through their stream of connected consciousness. His heart pulled to the left. The moment his feet set foot past the hospital's sliding glass double doors, he pivoted and willed his body to keep going, despite the pains that grew in his calves and knees.

There, at the end of the hall.

He threw the door open.

His breath caught.

There, in a hospital bed, attached to numerous wires and beeping machines, laid his flower girl. His heart skipped a beat, then began to hammer in his chest like it were about to explode. He began to tremble.

Oh Planets and angels, she looked like death had already claimed her.

Her skin was pale like that of a doll's, her cheeks no longer holding their pink hue. The color was fading from her lips, turning gray and withered.

The only thing that brought his mind back to his body was the sharp intake of breath from the profuse amount of people that apparently also inhabited the room, all of whom had a facial expression that represented 'shocked beyond all belief' quite well.

Cloud's took a deep breath. "I watched you dive into the crater. How are you still alive?"

Sephiroth let out a shuddering sigh, shook his head, and turned once again to Aerith.

"She's been like this since we got back." Sephiroth recognized Yuffie's voice. She heard her take a few steps toward the hospital bed. "Vincent got her back here as quick as he could, but the doctor isn't sure if she-"

Another person barged through the door.

"What on the planet's green face is going on? I heard a report that someone was running down the halls of my hospital like he had Ifrit breathing down his back."

Sephiroth looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Rej, the kind doctor who had given so much help to him and Aerith. The way Rej's face paled, however, bothered Sephiroth.

Cloud took a few steps forward, standing next to Yuffie. "He won't hurt her, doctor."

Rej swallowed the obvious lump that had formed in his throat. Sephiroth knew that Cloud had told the doctor of his and Aerith's pasts. It was, however, of little matter at the moment. Sephiroth forced everything from his mind and focused on Aerith.

Slowly, he made his way to the side of the bed. He gently took up Aerith's arm, being careful not to disturb the IV that hung from her wrist. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself enough courage to reach out…

The voice that sounded throughout the room was deep, foreign.

"Aerith."

All those in the enclosure gasped, and someone behind him – most likely Yuffie, he surmised – squeaked loudly.

The deep voice rang out again.

"Aerith."

Stirring ever so slightly in her sleep, Aerith twitched.

"Aerith, open your eyes."

A startled gasp came from her mouth, and before those in the room had registered what was going on, Aerith had sat up and was gasping for breath, reaching out with her hands as if to grab a hold of something, anything, that would tie her to the world of the conscious.

Sephiroth gathered Aerith's hands in his own, bringing them to his lips and gently kissing her knuckles.

"Everything is fine. Breath, little one. Relax. All is well, Aerith."

Coughing as though she was winded, Aerith leaned back and tried to regain a normal breathing pattern. Words fell from her lips at a mile a minute, so fast Sephiroth was sure even she couldn't understand what she was saying.

"You jumped, you idiot! I told you not to leave me, and what did you do? You jumped, and you jumped without me! I stepped in front of that damned tentacle to save your ass, and what do you do? You jump! You-"

Awe suddenly replaced any and all emotion apparent on Aerith's face.

Again, Sephiroth brought her hands up to his lips, placing light kisses on the back of each of her palms. He could feel his smile stretching clear across his face.

"Aerith, I told you that all is well. I'm here now, aren't I? I won't leave you again."

Pulling her hands from his grasp, Aerith cradled Sephiroth's face within her palms.

"Your voice! It's back!"

If it were at all possible, Sephiroth smile would have widened. "Indeed."

"How?" Her face was still wide with wonder.

"When I realized that I had something to live for. When I realized how much I wanted to tell you I love you."


	50. Harmony

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 50: Harmony

Sephiroth adjusted the collar of his shirt, trying to decide if he should leave the top button open or not. He frowned in the mirror, cursing his indecisiveness. He was happy to be back in the cabin discreetly tucked away in the Mideel woods, just outside of town, he was rather irate with the fact that he couldn't decide what to wear.

"Seph?" Aerith's voice carried out from the room next to his, and as soon as he heard her call out to him he forgot how annoyed he was at his appearance and rushed to her side.

"What wrong? Are you feeling dizzy again? Do you need me to-"

Aerith sighed melodramatically, making sure her head rolled along with her eyes. "I've been in this damn bed three days longer than Rej said I needed to be. I want to get up and get ready for tonight. I want to cook for when everyone comes over. I'm sick of lying here like a bump on a log."

Sephiroth sat next to Aerith, smiling down at her. "I want to make sure you're well. I'll not let you take any chances."

Crossing her arms, Aerith narrowed her eyes. "There's cautious, and then there's silly. I want to get up, and I know I'm well enough to do it."

Oh, she was being catty! Sephiroth's smile widened, feeling mischievous. "If you're well enough to stand, then why haven't you?"

"I haven't so much as rolled over without you by my side! I don't want you pitching a fit because I stood up with you out of the room. I'm not about to be guilted back to bed."

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow. "I would guilt you back to bed? Really?"

Aerith scoffed. "I can hear you now! 'Why did you stand up without me there? You could have fallen over! You could have hurt yourself! Blah blah blah!' And then you'd give me that look, and I'd feel so terrible about it I would crawl back into bed for another month."

Daring a sly grin, Sephiroth kissed Aerith's forehead. "My voice isn't quite so high, but that's roughly what would happen."

Aerith shrugged off the covers from her legs, pulling her self up off the stack of pillows she had been resting on. "I want up. Now. Are you going to help me or not?"

Sephiroth stood, reaching his hand out for Aerith to take. "Better than being a bump on a log, as you put it."

Helping her up wasn't quite the chore Sephiroth had expected. Aerith was still light as he remembered her, her tiny frame easily falling and fitting against his. No, it was the way her legs trembled that made him worry.

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head, and Sephiroth saw that she was biting her lip as if in pain. Immediately, though gently, he pushed her back down upon her bed. As he sat next to her, he placed her legs in his lap and gave her a curious look.

Letting out a huge breath, Aerith clenched her eyes. "I hate being so helpless!" Her exclamation came to no surprise; Sephiroth would be just as frustrated, if not more, were he in her place.

He made a gentle sound, trying to soothe her. He absent mindedly rubbed her calf muscles, hoping to ease her weariness. "Your muscles are atrophied a bit, that's all. You've been in bed, healing. You're nothing close to helpless, little one."

Obviously he had said the right words, as Sephiroth watched while Aerith's facial expression softened. "I just want to get out of this dumb bed. I'm so sick of sitting here and doing nothing."

Sephiroth clucked, moving his hands from her calves to her ankles. "You've been as active as ever, your activities have just been limited. Come now- how many books from the downstairs shelf have I brought to you? Nearly all of your friends have come to stay with us to check up on you, too. You were able to talk with Red, and play games with Yuffie, and, if I'm not mistaken, it was Tifa who painted your toes pink last Saturday. Everyone knows the situation you've been through, and no one thinks you weak for it."

Mood obviously brightened, Aerith let out a contented sigh. "Where did you learn to give massages like that, Seph? Do my knees next, please?"

As if he could say no. He smiled as he went to work, concentrating on the way her skin yielded against his calloused fingers. She was so soft against him, so warm. Her skin was the most beautiful shade of cream, and every so often he would encounter a stray freckle he hadn't known she had. Several long moments of silence past before Aerith felt the need to get his attention.

"Why, Seph; I do believe you're going to get carried away."

When he looked up at her face, she wore the prettiest blush upon her cheeks. He looked back down at his hands, realizing they were inching up her things. With a sigh, he gently took his hands away.

He liked the little sound of regret she made when his skin left hers.

"I'm not broken, Seph. I'm not made of glass, either."

Again, he looked up at her, this time catching the meaning hidden behind her rosy cheeks. "Aerith, I couldn't. Not while you're still-"

She cut him off when she rolled her eyes and turned her head away.

Tentatively, afraid he had ruined the moment, Sephiroth placed his hand gently against the outside of her thigh. "It's not that I don't want you, sweet one."

She shot him a glare, though it was soft. "Then what it is?"

He felt a lump rise in his throat. Never having been one to openly discuss his thoughts and emotions, Sephiroth was having a hard time gathering his feelings and trying to place them into words. It took him several minutes of concentration before he felt he could answer her question.

"Because I do want you, all of you, and that's the problem. I want this to last though, Aerith: I want us to last. Jumping headfirst into everything is hard for me. I'm not used to being honest with the way I am feeling. I find that sometimes I can't even express in words what's going on inside of me. I'm confused and content all at once, all of the time. But I am determined in taking things slow with us. I'm not going to scare you off."

The look he gave her turned his heart to mush. "I've been in this bed for weeks, Seph. The most affection you've given me is a peck on the cheek, and only when I ask for it. I just feel the need to be honest with you, that's all. I'm tired of sitting here. I'm tired of your hard-to-read emotions. Just let it out, would you? If you want me, I'm here."

Goddamn the fact that he could deny her nothing, least of all his own heart.

He had her pinned to the mattress, knees on either side of her hips, elbows resting on either side of her head, within the span of a breath of air. He sighed into her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone. She giggled underneath him.

"One of these days, Aerith, I am going to learn how to tell you 'no'."

Sephiroth could practically hear the smile that befell her face. "I'll just have to learn new ways to make you want to give in. I'm such a temptress, aren't I?"

He chuckled, delighted in the fact that she wasn't going to play coy with him.

Littering her neckline with kisses, Sephiroth took his time mapping her features with his lips. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, and the corners of her mouth. All the while she played with his hair, sighing contentedly against him. Making his way to one of her ears, he nibbled on the lobe, pulling and nipping gently with his teeth.

"Are you sure, Aerith? We have guests that will be arriving in less than three hours."

She shifted under him, sending a delicious wave of want through him.

"They can wait."

She bit at his neck.

"And what of the food you told me you were going to prepare for them all?" He delighted in teasing her.

She wound her arms around his neck, pulling them together.

"We'll order out."

This time, it was her turn to pull at his ear with her teeth.

He smiled as he turned and kissed her.

"Why, Aerith; I do believe you're going to get carried away."

XXXXXXX

If you are looking for the full chapter, though I must warn readers it is intended for mature audiences only, please head over to the following link (minus the spaces, of course)

http : // mihoyonagi . livejournal . com / 101053 . html # cutid1


	51. Endings

Unspoken

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 51: Endings

Sephiroth adjusted the collar of the button-up shirt Aerith had picked out for him. While he liked dark red, he didn't feel it fitting on him. Though, he mused, he would have been just as uncomfortable in any other garment of clothing he owned. He was, after all, surrounded by people he had once fought tooth and nail against.

The events that took place in the hospital room when Sephiroth had broken down at Aerith's bedside had shaken her friends to a point where, while Sephiroth was sure a great many of them still harbored a least a little hate toward him, they would at least tolerate his company. This proved truthful as Sephiroth sat, uncomfortably it is to be added, in the midst of her friends, sipping champagne and laughing at jokes that were shared.

She was the center of attention that night, and Sephiroth knew that was how it should have been, at least for the occasion. Everyone had gathered for food and friendship, celebrating Aerith's return not only to health, but to them.

All of her friends stood around her, all offering a warm hand on her shoulder at some point of the night. She glowed with appreciation and happiness.

Sephiroth stood partially in the shadows of the house, against a corner piece of the kitchen counter-top, nursing his drink and trying his best to stay out of everyone's way. He'd had his fun with Aerith that afternoon, making love well into the hours of dusk. It was time for her friends to enjoy her company, and Sephiroth, though he felt slightly possessive of his little flower girl, would have to learn to share.

Earlier in the night, after most of the guests of the night had arrived, Sephiroth was distracted by a knock at the door. Not wanting whoever was at the door to disturb the festivities, he opened the door himself and bade the figure inside.

The woman Sephiroth hadn't recognized. He thought, at first, she was someone from the village who had come for a visit of some sort. She was short, her curly hair pressed up into a bun at the bottom of her neck.

"May I help you?" Sephiroth tried his best to smile down politely at the woman, though he was unsure as to why he suddenly felt he knew her.

She looked up at him, cocked her head to one side, and smiled. "I'm here to visit my daughter."

Sephiroth instantly knew where he knew the woman's face from. When he and Aerith had stopped briefly in Midgar, they had stayed a few nights at the house in the slums. The woman's face was from the photographs Aerith had plastered to the wall of her bedroom.

It was her adoptive mother.

A started cry sounded from across the room. "Mommy!"

Aerith's bare feet pounded across the wooden floor of the cottage as she ran into the embrace of her mother.

A sight so warm had never before presented itself in front of Sephiroth.

He looked on as the two women sank to the floor in one another's arms, weeping tears of happiness.

That had been nearly an hour ago.

The tears had long since subsided, but deep feelings lingered within Sephiroth. He had taken so much from the flower girl. It was a miracle she even looked at him twice.

He took another drink from his glass, the ice at the bottom shifting.

Vincent was at his side when Sephiroth turned to refill his drink.

"Quite the party you've got going."

"Indeed."

It was strange, speaking again. That which Sephiroth had lacked for months had been given back to him when he realized he had to move on. It was odd, not using his notebook to communicate any longer.

Vincent took a sip of his own drink. "I talked to Yuffie," he offered, a hint of uncertainty under his voice.

"Oh?"

As if she had heard her name, the young ninja looked up and exchanged a small, private smile with the gunman. She winked, then turned her head back to the conversation she was having with Tifa.

Sephiroth contemplated the notion. He assured himself that with the wink Yuffie had offered Vincent, talking wasn't the only thing that had happened.

Vincent seemed calm. Well, calmer than usual. Perhaps he had found peace.

A young child peeked her head around the corner of the island in the kitchen. Her large brown eyes looked up tentatively at Vincent, then to Sephiroth. Her hair was dark, and her skin pale. Sephiroth knew her to be Marlene, Barret's daughter. "Is there any more melon left? Papa ate what was left on the table."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, then turned to Sephiroth as if eager to gage his reaction.

Mustering up as kind a smile he was able to, Sephiroth walked past the island counter and pulled the fridge door open. He had never been good with children, but he was at least going to try for the little one. Pulling a plastic container free of the lid, Sephiroth crouched down and offered the bowl to Marlene.

Marlene, in her innocence, cocked her head and gazed up at the large man who was offering her a bowl of fruit. "Papa says you're a bad man, that you hurt Aerith and did lots of bad things."

The statement caught Sephiroth by surprise. He hesitated before he answered.

"I did some bad things, yes, but I'm changed now."

Marlene blinked a few times, as if processing Sephiroth's words. "Papa says that you're mean, but if Aerith likes you then you can't be all that bad."

Sephiroth chuckled as he offered the bowl again to the child. She eagerly took a few pieces of the sliced melon and placed them on a paper plate. "Everyone makes mistakes. Mine were just bigger than anyone else's." There would be little use of sugar-coating his words.

She seemed to contemplate his statement for a moment before she smiled up at him. "Nobody's perfect."

"You're absolutely right. No one is perfect. But we need to try the best we can."

Again, Marlene tilted her head up at the general. She looked, too, toward Vincent, curious. "Will you come sit with me in the living room? I have no one else to talk to."

Sephiroth paused, unsure.

Apparently sensing his unease, Marlene grabbed at his hand and tugged. "Bring the melon; we can all have some."

He followed her, lead by the the tiny grip she had on his hand, into the living room. Several heads looked up when the two of them squeezed their way past a few sets of legs and onto an unoccupied sofa. Marlene sat first, patting the cushion next to her and indicating a wish for Sephiroth to sit. Unsure of what else to do, Sephiroth merely sat next to the child and meekly accepted a slice of melon when she offered it.

Someone in the room cleared their throat, and Sephiroth became painfully aware that all of Aerith's friends were staring at him. He swallowed, uncomfortable.

"Will you tell me about all the places you've been to? I've only ever been to Kalm and Midgar, at least that I can remember. This is my first trip over the ocean."

Sephiroth took a deep breath. "I've been all over the world."

Marlene curled her toes, excited that a grownup was taking interest in her and was willing to answer her endless string of questions. She offered him another slice of melon off her plate. "Have you ever been to Costa del Sol? My travel book says it's the best place in the world to have a vacation!"

Red chuckled from across the room. "It's very hot there. My nose was dry for days. That's all I remember."

The inhabitants of the room laughed and a great deal of the tension was lost.

"The world is a big place, and I've been to nearly every corner of it. But nothing really compares to the feeling you get when you come home. Where would you like to hear about first?"

XXXXXXXXX

With this, ladies and gentlemen, I bid you farewell. I hope you enjoyed reading my story – it only took me three years to finish it, haha. If you have a question or a comment that you'd like to send to me directly, feel free to drop me a line at mihoyonagi at yahoo dot com. Be on the lookout for the companion fic to Unspoken, Reason to Live, featuring Yuffie and Vincent from the same fic-universe.

Until we meet again!


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